


Legacy

by DizzyDrea



Series: Legacies [2]
Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brothers, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Magical Artifacts, fathers and sons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-05
Updated: 2012-08-05
Packaged: 2017-11-11 11:21:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/477989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DizzyDrea/pseuds/DizzyDrea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick gets the surprise of his life when the son he never knew he had shows up on his doorstep. But just when he thinks he's got a handle on <i>that</i>, an old nemesis shows up and threatens everything he's built.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by... well, I have no idea where this idea came from. It just popped into my head and wouldn't let go until I'd written it. It's a sequel to _The Price to Be Paid_ , so it would help to have read that one before reading this one, though it's not necessary.
> 
> Disclaimer: Grimm is the property of NBC, Universal Television, GK Productions, Hazy Mills Productions, Open 4 Business Productions LLC and a lot of other people who aren’t me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.

~o~

There was a brief knock, followed by a familiar face poking through the open doorway.

"Captain?"

Nick Burkhardt looked up, smiling as he waved his Sergeant in. "What can I do for you, Reynolds?"

"I've got a kid out here, says he needs to talk to you."

Nick looked balefully at the stacks of paperwork he'd been steadily plowing through since early that morning. It was the one thing his predecessor hadn't mentioned—the distinct possibility that he'd be buried alive by the sheer volume of paperwork involved in running a precinct.

"Am I being recruited back to homicide?" he asked. "Not that I'd complain, but…"

Reynolds shook his head. "He asked for you specifically. Normally I wouldn't bother you, but he seemed to think you were the only one who could help him."

"Huh," Nick said. He didn't remember handing out his card to any young kids lately, but it could just as easily be wesen related as human. Which didn't clear anything up, but he supposed there was only one way to find out. "Show him in."

Reynolds disappeared around the corner, returning a moment later followed by a young man—probably no more than eighteen, if Nick had to guess. He had short, dark hair and deep blue eyes. There was something familiar about him, though Nick was hard-pressed to figure out what that was.

He stood up, tugging at his vest as he circled around the desk, hand out to welcome his visitor. He hated wearing the suits, but as the Captain of the West Precinct, he couldn't show up in jeans every day. Today he was wearing his favorite suit—the charcoal pinstripe with the vest and a white shirt. No tie, because it was bad enough that he had to wear the damned suit. The thought flitted through his mind that he was glad he'd put the suit on this morning instead of something else. He shook his head, not quite sure where that thought had come from.

"Hi, I'm Captain Nick Burkhardt," he said, smiling kindly. The kid looked nervous, which was pretty much a default setting inside the police station.

"Jeremy," he said as he shook Nick's hand. "Remy."

"It's nice to meet you, Remy," Nick said. He turned to Reynolds and smiled. "Thanks, Reynolds. I'll let you know if we need you."

"Sure thing, Captain," Reynolds said. He tipped his hat at both of them, then left the room, closing the door behind him.

"Have a seat," Nick said. He circled the desk and settled back into his chair, closing the file he'd been working on to focus on his visitor. "So, what can I do for you?"

Remy shifted uncomfortably in his seat, and Nick smiled sympathetically. The kid looked like he'd been called to the Principal's office. He still looked like he could be in high school, so maybe that wasn't such an unreasonable guess. He was dressed in a blue button down shirt and faded jeans, but they looked to be of good quality. And the leather jacket he was wearing suggested that he had people that cared about him, because it looked expensive. Nick shook himself mentally; he'd never quite kicked the profiling habit, despite being a Captain for almost three years.

"It usually helps to just spit it out," Nick said kindly. "Whatever it is, holding it in is worse, believe me."

Remy sighed. "So, it turns out that I'm your son." He paused, licking his lips as the floor dropped out from under Nick. "Juliette Silverton is my mom."

Nick dropped back in his chair, his head spinning. "Juliette?"

"Yeah," Remy said. 

The young man smiled softly and Nick was struck by how much that smile reminded him of his old girlfriend. Now that he was looking, he could see the resemblance. The high cheekbones, pale skin and dark hair were all Burkhardt. And the eyes—deeper blue than his own, but still familiar. He was tall and thin, and he'd moved the way he remembered Juliette moving, smooth and graceful.

"Wow."

He was in shock, and he knew it, but he couldn't seem to muster anything more elegant than that. Juliette must have known she was pregnant when she left. Nick felt a pang of regret over that—not quite as sharp as it used to be, but it was still there after all these years. He'd finally told her everything, about his aunt and the trailer and being a Grimm. 

She'd been skeptical at first, but as time wore on and she saw the toll being a Grimm was taking on him, she'd decided that she didn't want to watch him die by degrees right before her eyes. It was bad enough being the girlfriend of a cop; to be the girlfriend of a Grimm and wait at home for him, night after night, not knowing if some wesen had finally managed to kill him was more than she'd felt capable of handling. So, she'd left—back to her parents in Vancouver if he had to guess, though he knew she could be anywhere.

Now, he was sitting across from his son—a walking, talking, living, breathing carbon copy of himself. It must have killed her, watching him grow up knowing what he'd become one day. He had no doubt—well, maybe only a small doubt—that this boy was his son. The resemblance was too great to be a coincidence.

Remy shifted in his chair, snapping Nick out of his thoughts.

"How is your mother?" he asked. They hadn't talked at all since she'd left, so he had no idea where she'd even gone.

"She's good," Remy said, a familiar smile stealing over his lips. "She's still a vet; has her own practice now."

"I'm glad," Nick said. He felt his heart unclench just a little. He'd always known she'd land on her feet, but he'd felt bad, like he'd chased her out of Portland. He wanted to ask where she'd gone, where Remy had grown up, but he didn't want the kid to feel like he was being interrogated. And it really wasn't his business, anyway. He leaned forward, bracing his arms on the desk. "So, what brings you to Portland?"

"School, actually," Remy said. "I'm starting at Portland State in a few days."

Nick smiled. "That's great! Do you know what you're going to major in?"

Remy shrugged. "I was thinking Criminal Justice."

Once again, Nick was rendered speechless. That couldn't be a coincidence, could it? If this kid was his, and he wanted to study CJ, did that mean his mother had told him about his father? And how much? Nick's mind swam with questions.

"To answer the question you're not asking, yes, Mom did tell me about you," Remy said. "She always said you were a good cop; that you cared about people and tried to make a difference. I guess I kinda grew up wanting to be like you."

"I'm flattered, honestly," Nick said. "And surprised."

"Yeah, well," Remy said, an embarrassed blush creeping over his cheeks. Nick chuckled.

They sat in silence for a few moments, looking at each other. Nick wasn’t sure where they went from there. Did Remy want to know him? Had he come by just to satisfy some sort of curiosity about the father he'd never known? The longer they sat there, the more questions started to swirl in his mind.

"I should go," Remy said, standing up. "You're busy, and I don't want to take up too much of your time."

Nick rose, coming around the desk to shake the boy's hand once more. "I'm glad you came." 

He was sincere in that, at least. Even if the kid had just been curious, he was glad to have at least met him. He walked Remy out of his office and down the stairs to the front of the building. They stopped outside, facing each other, that awkward silence still clinging to the air around them.

"Listen, would you like to come over for dinner?" Nick asked. "I mean, you don't have to, but I'd like to get to know you. If you want."

Remy smiled, and it was like the sun coming out on a cloudy day. "I'd like that."

Nick reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a business card and pen. He scribbled down his address and cell number on the back and handed it to Remy.

"My cell number's on there, in case something comes up," he said, more nervous than he'd ever been asking a girl out. "Tomorrow night. Come by at seven?"

"Thanks," Remy said, a small, pleased smile on his face. "I'll be there."

Nick watched Remy walk away before heading back inside, his head still swimming with questions.

~o~ 

Sean Renard sat behind the massive desk in his office, barely listening as the person on the other end of the line droned on. In truth, he'd rather be doing anything but taking this call. It was an old argument, and one that Sean had grown tired of. But, it was also family, so he tolerated it.

Plus, Nick had walked into his office in the middle of the conversation, and he never left the precinct in the middle of the day unless it was for a case or a meeting downtown. He'd watched the man prowl around the room, standing at the windows overlooking the city. Something was wrong, and not even the fantastic view from the Police Chief's office was curing it.

 _"Pensez á ce que je vous ai dit,"_ the man on the phone said, recapturing Sean's attention.

He sighed. He'd think about it as his uncle requested, but he'd make no promises. "Oui, j'y vais."

 _"Bon,"_ the other man said. _"A bientôt."_

The line went dead before Sean could even reply, and he set the phone back in its cradle, massaging his temples for a moment.

"Everything okay?"

He looked up, seeing Nick still standing by the windows, a concerned frown on his face.

"Yes," he said, sighing again. "Just family business."

In this case, family business was one of his uncles being nosy. Again. He'd been pestered for years—by one relative or another—about when he planned to produce an heir to his protectorate. His uncle was only the latest in a long line. And while he was not unsympathetic, he was also not going to marry just any woman in order to do it. He'd tried marriage once; it hadn't stuck, and he wasn't in a hurry to try it again.

He rose from his desk and crossed the room to his brother, pulling him in for a brief hug. He felt the stress of the last hour bleed out as he took comfort in the only relative of his that mattered. But, as much as he knew he needed the hug—and by the looks of him, Nick did too—he was keenly aware that there was also something wrong with his brother.

"Come on," he said when he'd pulled back a moment later. "Sit down and tell me what got you out of the precinct in the middle of a Thursday afternoon."

They settled on the couch, Nick leaning back against the cushions and Sean canted to the side so he could see his brother's face. He reached out and settled a hand on Nick's shoulder, giving a light squeeze of encouragement.

"I had a strange visit today," Nick said, eyes still closed.

"Oh?" Sean asked. "Who was this mystery guest?"

"My son."

Sean froze for a second, and Nick's head came up, eyes opened as he took in Sean's reaction.

"You're sure?"

"No," Nick said, letting out a breath he seemed to have been holding since he walked into Sean's office. "But… you should have seen him, Sean. He looks so much like me, it was like looking at myself when I was eighteen. Same eyes, same hair, same smile."

"I hate to ask, but—"

"He says Juliette's his mother," Nick said, not waiting for Sean to finish.

"Did he say anything else?" Sean knew that Nick hadn't spoken to Juliette since the break-up, but this was the sort of thing you picked up the phone for.

Nick shook his head. "I was too shocked to ask. I mean, I had questions, but what do I ask first?" He chuckled. "Imagine that: a cop that doesn't know what questions to ask."

"It's understandable," Sean said. "That's a pretty big surprise to lay on you."

"He said Juliette told him about me." He turned to Sean, a ghost of a smile on his face. "He says he wants to major in Criminal Justice."

Sean smiled. "Like father, like son." He looked at Nick, trying to decide whether to ask or not. The cop instinct warred with the instincts of a brother for all of five seconds. "Do you want me to look into him? I have some contacts I can use. If Juliette is still a practicing vet, she'd have to be bonded; I can use that."

Nick sighed. "I don't want to feel like I can't trust him, but… yeah, go ahead. I don't know anything more than the kid's first name: Jeremy. He calls himself Remy."

"Remy," Sean said, smiling. "It's a good French name."

"Maybe he's another long lost brother," Nick joked. He paused, then went on. "I invited him over for dinner tomorrow. I know you were planning on coming over; I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, Nick," he said. "I was planning on making Steak au Poivre. I'll just stop and get another steak."

"The kid's eighteen," Nick said, frowning good-naturedly.

"So, hamburgers it is," Sean said, smiling. He might give the appearance of a Police Chief but as Lord of the Canton, his tastes would never be MacDonald's. Hamburgers didn't mean he couldn't do something special.

"Thanks," Nick said, smiling.

Sean patted Nick's shoulder. "Anything. You know that."

Nick turned to face him. "I know I don't say it very often, but I'm glad we're brothers, Sean."

"I know," Sean said, echoing Nick's smile. "I feel the same."

They shared a smile as they sat quietly, just enjoying each others' company. The bastard sons of Marcel Renard had only had each other to lean on for so many years that it had become second nature to seek each other out when tough times came along. Today was no different, and Sean was glad that he could be there for his brother.

"I should go," Nick said. He stood up and stretched, Sean following suit.

"I'll see you later," Sean said. He reached out and squeezed Nick's shoulder. "It's going to be fine. Now, get back to work."

"Yes, sir," Nick said, tossing off a mock-salute.

Sean smiled as he watched Nick head out. 

The irony was not lost on him that the one under no family pressure to have an heir had been the one to have a son walk into his life. He took a steadying breath and returned to his desk, diving into the question of whether this young man really was Nick's son.

~o~ 

Nick had gone back to work that afternoon and tried valiantly to focus on the paperwork covering his desk. Fortunately, the day was almost over because his focus had been shot. He'd gone in bright and early the next day only to have the same problem. At some point, he'd recognized that the effort was futile at best. So, he'd packed it in for the day at 4:30pm, surprising the hell out of Sergeant Reynolds. But, with a promise to call him on his cell if anything came up that needed his attention, he'd finally gone.

He knew he should have been offended somehow by how easy his escape had been, but even he knew that if it wasn't for Sean, he'd never leave the office. They were as close as brothers could be, and they balanced each other in surprising ways, especially when it came to work. Sean was dedicated—moreso now that he'd become the Police Chief—but he understood the value of leaving work at work.

It had been difficult, Nick mused as he chopped vegetables for a salad, for him to learn balance since becoming a Grimm. The wesen-related cases seemed to always bleed over into his private life, and even when he was able to take time off, the wesen in Portland didn't seem to get the memo. Still, whenever he could, he set it all aside—police work and Grimm work—and spent time with his friends and with his brother, just enjoying each other's company doing whatever they wanted.

It was a good life, and Nick wouldn't trade it for anything.

The sound of the front door caught his attention. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. 6pm. Sean had left work on time for a change.

He appeared in the kitchen, patting Nick on the shoulder as he passed. He set the grocery bag on the counter and turned, leaning against the counter.

"Hey, you're on time," Nick said with a smile. 

"We're having company," Sean said, as if that explained everything. "Can you take a break?"

Nick set down the knife he'd been using to cut up the zucchini and turned around. "What's up?"

Sean had shed his jacket and tie, and rolled up his sleeves before he'd stepped into the kitchen, which surprised Nick. He didn't usually let his appearance go this much, even when he visited Nick at his house. Nick had changed immediately after he'd gotten home. Given the choice, he'd spend only as long as he absolutely had to in those suits. At least Sean had taken him to his tailor—and hadn't that been quite the experience—so he now had a good selection of well-made suits befitting the Captain of the precinct.

"I have some information for you," he said, reaching beside him to pluck a file off the counter, pulling Nick's attention back to him.

Nick's eyebrow rose. "That was fast. Should I ask who we owe favors to?"

"I told you, I have connections," Sean said with a wink. He nudged Nick out of the way and set about emptying the grocery bag of supplies for dinner. "That's as much as I could find."

Nick opened the file, both eyebrows racing for his hairline. There was a ton of information there, everything from financials on Juliette's vet clinic to transcripts from Remy's schools—and Nick was pleased to find that the kid was an A student—to probably the key piece of information for Nick. 

On the top of the stack was Remy's birth certificate. Jeremy Nicholas Burkhardt. Nick felt something settle in his chest as he read the name of the father: Nicholas Reed Burkhardt.

"So, Juliette, at least, believed that you were Remy's father," Sean said when the silence lengthened.

"Short of a DNA test, that's about the best we can do," Nick said, still paging through the information.

"Well, that and blood type," Sean said. He turned, pointing at the file. "Page two. His blood type's AB+."

Nick's eyebrow rose again as he flipped the page. AB+ was rare enough that it couldn't just be coincidence. "So's mine. So, unless there's some cosmic convergence that made Remy look like me and share the same blood type, he's my son."

"Looks that way." Sean folded up the empty bag, setting it aside, and turned around. "You okay with that?"

Nick closed the folder, setting it on the counter beside him. He leaned back, tucking his hands into his pockets. "Yeah, I'm okay with that." He looked at his brother. "I never even thought about having kids after Juliette left. I'm not sure what I should be doing."

"Stop," Sean said, holding up a hand. He crossed over and put his hands on Nick's shoulders, bending his knees a little to put himself at eye level with the younger man. "I know you've had your reservations about having children, but the fact of the matter is that he's here now. You just need to be there for him. And I'll be there for both of you. He'll be welcome in Portland as long as he lives. Okay?"

"Okay," Nick said, letting out the breath he'd been holding. He had no idea how to be a father; his memories of his own father were vague at best. But he should have known that Sean would step up; that his brother wouldn't let him face this alone. That meant more to him than anything. "Thank you."

Sean raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For being so good about this."

"You're my brother, Nick," Sean said, smiling. "I'll always be there for you."

Nick smiled back, reaching out to squeeze Sean's shoulder. They hadn't grown up together, but sharing the same biological father had bonded them together. Now they were as close as two brothers could be. Nick was grateful to have Sean to lean on in times like these.

"I just hope I don't screw this up," Nick said.

"You won't," Sean said. "Now, do you think you can finish up the salad while I get to work on the burgers?"

~o~ 

Remy stood outside the address Nick had given him, shuffling his feet back and forth. He'd been trying to work up the nerve to knock for the last five minutes without much success. His nerves—by now an entire flock of dive-bombers in his stomach—were worse now than they'd been when he'd shown up at his father's precinct the day before.

It wasn't that he didn't want to get to know his father—he'd wanted to meet the man ever since his mother had told him just how close Nick really lived. Ten years was a long time to anticipate meeting a man he'd only known through the stories his mother told. 

The reality was so much better than he'd expected. Nick was just as open and friendly as his mother had said he'd be. He hadn't questioned whether Remy was his son, just welcomed him into his life.

Still, he was nervous. Despite how well their first meeting had gone, he knew it could all go horribly wrong in an instant. And the trouble was, he really wanted this to work. He really wanted to know his father and ask all the questions about his family that his mother hadn't been able to answer.

At least he lived in a nice, unassuming house in the suburbs. Remy had expected some lavish mansion or a posh condo, by the look of the suit his father had been wearing, but this place was about as middle-class as they came. The house was on a large lot, and appeared to be well taken care of. His mother had described a house much like this one when she'd talked about where they'd lived. He wondered idly if this was the same house. Seeing the thought for what it was—stalling—he shook it off.

Steeling his nerves, he raised his hand and rang the doorbell.

A few long moments later, the door swung open. Nick was dressed more casually this time, in some comfortable jeans and a Henley—a far cry from the nicely tailored suit he'd been wearing the day before. 

"Hey Remy," Nick said, smiling.

"Captain," Remy said, returning the smile a bit nervously. He realized it sounded totally inane to be calling his father Captain, but he really didn't know what else to call him.

The two men stood there for a moment, both unsure what to do. After a few aborted attempts—with the men alternately sticking out a hand or reaching for a hug—Nick pulled the younger man into his arms. Remy buried his face in his father's shoulder and leaned into the embrace. A few long minutes later, and Nick pulled back, leaving his hands on Remy's shoulders.

"I think you can call me Nick now," he said. He squeezed once more, briefly, then let go. "Come on in."

He stepped aside and Remy walked in, stopping just inside the door. "Thanks again for inviting me over."

"I'm glad you said yes. It'll give us a chance to get to know each other," Nick said. Remy could hear the honest sincerity in his voice, and felt something unclench in his gut. "Here, let me take your coat."

Remy shed his jacket and handed it to Nick, who hung it up on the rack by the door. Nick turned and headed into the house, Remy following behind. The house was just as nice on the inside as it was on the outside. Gleaming hardwood floors, plush leather seating, and a large LCD TV in the living room. It was masculine but tasteful. Clearly a bachelor's home.

"Something smells great," Remy said, sniffing the air appreciatively.

"I can't take credit for that," Nick said. He glanced at Remy, who saw a nervous glimmer in his eyes. "Sean's a great cook, so we usually eat pretty well."

"Sean?"

"My brother," Nick said. He stopped just outside the kitchen and turned to face his son. "We get together a few times a week for dinner. He was actually pretty excited that you'd agreed to come tonight."

"It's always nice to have company," Sean said as he came around the corner, holding a plate of hamburgers still sizzling from the grill. He set it down on the counter and held out his hand. "Remy, right?"

"Yeah," Remy said. 

To say he was surprised would be an understatement. His mother hadn't mentioned a brother, but maybe she just hadn't known. They hadn't kept in touch after she'd left, but they'd been together for almost four years by the time she'd left, so something must have happened after she'd gone. He could see the two men looking at him, Nick with nervous anticipation and Sean seeming eager to get off on the right foot. He didn't sense any hostility from the man, just an easy authority that Remy could feel himself responding to.

He took Sean's hand in a firm grip, both men sizing the other up. "It's nice to meet you."

"You, too," Sean said. He let go and moved into the kitchen.

Remy watched him for a moment as he moved with ease in the space. He'd bet good money that he spent more time here than he did his own place. The house had a lived-in quality, and while he didn't know what Sean's place looked like, the man's appearance suggested that he had money. If that were true, then his house was probably professionally decorated, expensive and sterile, while this place was more like a home.

Of course, Sean also looked like a man who'd be comfortable no matter where he found himself. There was something about the way he moved, and the fact that he was wearing very well tailored suit pants and a fine shirt—even without the tie and with the sleeves rolled up he could tell it was expensive. He got the feeling the man didn't do casual Fridays.

"Are you okay with this, Remy?" Nick asked, interrupting Remy's train of thought. 

Remy snapped out of his musings. Just because he didn't know his father had a brother didn't mean that it was unwelcome news. The two men were as different as night and day, but they seemed to get along well. As long as Sean didn't mind him suddenly showing up in their lives. He just hoped they'd get along.

"Yeah. It's okay," he said, honestly meaning it. "I mean, Mom never mentioned that you had a brother. I just assumed you were an only child."

Nick smiled. "Yeah, I thought so, too. Turns out, not so much."

"If it makes you feel any better, I was just as shocked to find out I had an annoying little brother," Sean put in as he moved past them. "In case you were wondering."

Nick and Remy shared a look, and then both men laughed. Whatever tension and worry Remy might have had drained away in an instant. These two men were welcoming him into their lives. It was better than he'd expected, and he felt like they'd crossed one last barrier.

"You want a soda?" Nick asked Remy.

"Sure."

He went to the fridge and pulled a soda out for Remy, plus two beers for himself and Sean. By the time he'd poured out all three beverages the table was ready. Remy was surprised to see that, even though they were having hamburgers, the table was still set with nice dishes and actual silverware. The napkins were still paper, which made him feel a little better. There was a fantastic salad in a glass bowl, and mustard, ketchup and relish in bowls with spoons. He could tell they didn't do casual very often.

"Let's eat," Sean said.

Nick settled himself at the head of the table, Sean to his right and Remy across from him. They busied themselves with getting their burgers together, so conversations mostly consisted of "Pass this" or "Hand me that".

"This is great!" Remy exclaimed after the first bite. The burgers had a white cheddar center that just melted in the mouth. He couldn't remember ever having a better-tasting hamburger.

Nick chuckled. "Like I said, Sean's a good cook."

"So, Remy, tell us about yourself," Sean said as they tucked into their food. "Where did you grow up?"

"In Seattle, mostly," Remy said. "We moved up to Sequim when Mom decided to open her own clinic."

"I'd have thought your Mom would have gone back to Vancouver," Nick said.

"She told me she thought about it, but she liked Seattle, and it was close enough that we could just take the ferry over and visit Gran and Grandad."

"How are they doing?" Nick asked. Remy could tell by his tone that he'd liked them, though he wasn't sure the feeling was mutual at this point. They still had trouble believing that the breakup had been his mom's idea, though he thought that might just be because his mom was their daughter and they would always defend her.

"They're doing pretty good," Remy said. "I saw them a couple of weeks ago, before I came down here. Grandad's still into clocks, which still drives Gran crazy."

Nick chuckled. "I have a friend who's into clocks. He actually repairs them. It used to drive me crazy, too. All that ticking. I asked him once how he stood it."

"What did he say?" Sean asked.

"He said—and I quote—'What ticking?'"

All three men laughed.

"So, either Monroe's deaf, or he actually likes the ticking," Sean said, shaking his head.

"Sometimes I think it's that he's deaf," Nick said, a mock-frown on his face. "Have you seen his music collection?"

Sean rolled his eyes. "The man plays the cello. I think you can cut him a break."

Remy sat back in his chair, grinning like an idiot. Nick and Sean seemed to fit together like two peas in a pod, and he could definitely tell that they were brothers. If he'd had any reservations left, they'd just been dispelled.

"What?" Nick asked.

"You two," Remy said, shaking his head. "You should see yourselves. You're like The Odd Couple. It's hysterical."

"I'm glad you find it so funny," Nick said. 

He'd probably been trying for mildly affronted, but Remy wasn't buying, especially given the smile leaking around the edges of his face. They were so comfortable together that they probably finished each others' sentences on a regular basis, a fact that anyone who spent five minutes with them would discover. He found himself looking forward to getting to know these two men better.

The rest of the evening passed in easy conversation, and by the time Remy left, he felt like they'd really been able to connect. It gave him hope that maybe they could have a normal relationship, despite the rather unorthodox beginning.

...continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tanslations for Renard's conversation in French:
> 
>  _Pensez á ce que je vous ai dit._  
>  Think about what I've said (to you).
> 
>  _Oui, j'y vais._  
>  Yes, I will.
> 
>  _Bon. A bientôt._  
>  Good. See you soon.


	2. Chapter 2

~o~

"So, all quiet on the wesen front?"

Nick nearly choked on his beer at the bad pun. "You been holding on to that one for a while?"

Monroe smirked. "Seemed appropriate somehow."

He was at Monroe's house for a rare Friday night off. Sean was at a fundraiser, and while he could have been spending the time getting to know his son better, he'd felt oddly like he'd been ignoring Monroe. Besides, he didn't want to rush anything with Remy. They'd really only known each other for a week; he didn't want the kid to get sick of him too quickly.

"Funny," Nick said, smirking right back. He took another sip of his beer. "To answer your question, it seems the wesen have taken the week off. I did have a weird conversation with a _wachsbar_ yesterday."

"Ah, the kleptos of the wesen world," Monroe said, shivering a bit in disgust as he put the finishing touches on their salad. "Have you ever seen their dens? Little pack rats, only neater."

"Tell me about it," Nick said. "CSU spotted him on a surveillance tape, taking something from our crime scene. Dave Porter and I went by his place yesterday. It was amazing how much crap he had stuffed into that place. All neatly organized and cataloged, apparently, though not using any system I could identify."

"Just because they're neater doesn't mean they aren't still disgusting little creatures," Monroe said. The oven dinged, and he grabbed a couple of potholders and pulled the zucchini lasagna out of the oven, the cheese on top still bubbling. "What'd he take?"

Nick followed him out to the dining room, settling in at the table as Monroe set about serving their dinner. "The murder weapon, actually. Thankfully, he had it nicely bagged and tagged for us. Hopefully we won't get any flack at trial." 

"Chain of evidence?" Monroe asked.

"Yeah," Nick said. "But, if we can find the perp without the weapon, it won't matter so much."

"I'm guessing this case is all-human."

"With the exception of the _wachsbar_ , yeah." Nick took another bite of the lasagna—the really good lasagna. "Doesn't always take a wesen. Humans can be bad enough."

Monroe chuckled. "So, you're slumming this week with the Homicide Detectives?"

"Dave's partner is on vacation," Nick said. "He's human, and I wasn't sure what to expect with this guy, so I tagged along."

In truth, he'd been going stir crazy in the office, so he'd used the case as an excuse to get out and focus on something else for a change. Not that he was going to tell Monroe that.

"Uh huh," Monroe said, a knowing smile on his face. "So, what else is going on?"

Nick took a deep breath. "I found out I have a son."

"You have a what?" Monroe asked, nearly choking on his food. "Since when? And by whom?"

"Since about eighteen years ago," Nick said. "His mom's Juliette."

"And she never told you?" Monroe asked.

Nick could hear the slight outrage in his friend's voice. He couldn't blame him. He'd wondered off and on over the last week just why Juliette had kept this secret. He had to assume it was because of the Grimm stuff. He'd finally told her everything after the _daemonfeuer_ incident. She'd tried to cope, but ultimately it had been too hard. 

He hadn't blamed her then, but he wasn't feeling quite so generous now. He had a son he didn't know, who apparently knew him. And while he was glad that the kid had sought him out, he couldn't help but think that he shouldn't have had to.

"No, she never told me," he finally said. "And before you ask, I have no idea why."

Monroe considered that for a moment. "You don't think she was maybe trying to get back at you. You know, for all the Grimm stuff that broke you guys up."

"I've thought of that," Nick admitted. "I just can't believe she'd do something like that. She might have thought she was protecting Remy by not telling me, but he knows a lot about me, so it's like she wanted him to know who his father was without really knowing his father."

"I take it she didn't tell him about you being a Grimm."

"I don't think so," Nick said. "At least, it hasn't come up in conversation. I have to assume that'd be one of the first things he'd have asked about if he knew. It's all I wanted to talk to Aunt Marie about before she died."

"Yeah, well, you were on two wesen-related cases at the time," Monroe pointed out. "Your only resource at the time was in a coma."

"Not my only resource," Nick said slyly. "I kinda coerced this granola type _wieder-blutbad_ into helping me."

"I am not a 'granola type'," Monroe protested, though Nick thought it was feeble at best since he'd just spent the day making little ball-shaped snacks from oatmeal, peanut butter and a few other ingredients. "Does Renard know?"

Nick chuckled. It had been sixteen years since the two had met, and Monroe still couldn't call Sean by his first name. It had taken him a couple of years to get Monroe to relent and call him Renard instead of His Highness all the time. That had been disconcerting to hear, so he'd been relieved beyond words when Monroe had finally given in.

"Yeah, we had Remy over for dinner last week. They got along pretty well, actually," Nick said. He smiled slyly. "And Remy doesn't call him _Your Highness_."

"Funny," Monroe grumbled. "So, Remy, huh?"

Nick nodded. "Short for Jeremy. Jeremy Burkhardt. He's a good kid. He started at Portland State this week. Might be majoring in Criminal Justice."

"Well, if he's your kid, he'll probably be good at it," Monroe said. "You still do that weird thing where you profile people?"

"It's not weird when a cop does it," Nick said, shaking his head. "And yeah, I can still pretty much tell all about a person just by looking at them."

"Everyone except me," Monroe said, smiling.

"Are you ever going to let me live that down?"

Monroe pointed his fork at Nick. "When you start paying off the 64,000 you owe me."

They looked at each other for the space of a few heartbeats, then they both chuckled and went back to their food.

"You stop serving that excellent coffee whenever I come over to consult on a case and I might just stop owing you," Nick said.

"So, five minutes after never, then," Monroe said, a knowing smile on his face.

"Pretty much," Nick said, returning the smile.

~o~ 

Sean watched his brother out of the corner of his eye as Nick nocked an arrow in his compound bow. They were at the club, spending some quality time on the archery range on a rare Sunday off. Nick had been hitting the target, but Sean was doubtful that he was really paying attention. 

His reflexes, already good as a cop, had only gotten better as a Grimm, so target practice was more an excuse to get out of the house than any sort of actual practice. Still, he'd take the chance to spend time with his brother any day, even if he was distracted.

He knew Nick was preoccupied; that was obvious. And it didn't take a genius to figure out what had captured his attention so thoroughly. After knowing each other for nearly twenty years, he'd learned to read Nick like a book.

He wished Nick could learn to let some things go more easily, but he knew he wasn't the best person to give that lecture. As Police Chief, his work followed him home all the time—not to mention the issues involved in being the Lord Protector of Portland. Even now, enjoying some down time with his brother, he was still working. The texts and emails were largely being ignored at the moment, but he'd been checking his phone on a regular basis throughout the day. As a Grimm, Nick quite often had work follow him home, but Sean knew that wasn't it. This time it was something far more personal.

"So, have you talked to Remy lately?"Sean asked into the silence.

"We talked earlier," Nick said, glancing at Sean. He drew back on the bowstring and lined up his shot as a light breeze lifted his hair. A quick pull of the trigger and the arrow embedded itself in the target, dead center. "He says he likes his classes, for the most part, but he'd rather be taking courses for his major than being stuck taking general ed classes."

"You've got to start somewhere." Sean lined up his own shot, the arrow striking the target right beside Nick's. It wasn't quite dead center, but his brother had always been the better shot of the two of them, at least with a bow and arrow. "Has he asked about being a Grimm yet?"

Nick turned to look at his brother as he pulled out another arrow. "No, he hasn't. I don't think he knows, to tell you the truth."

"Are you going to tell him?"

A few silent moments ticked by as Nick considered the problem. Sean knew it had been weighing on the man ever since he'd become aware of Remy's existence. He also knew there was no easy answer.

He pulled back on the bowstring, lining up his next shot. A slight twitch of his hand and the arrow flew, embedding itself almost on top of his last one. "I don't know. I mean, I didn't know about being a Grimm and I did alright."

"Yes, but you at least had some warning," Sean reminded him. "And despite the help you got, you still struggled at the beginning."

He picked up his next arrow, nocking it and drawing the string back. Carefully aiming, he drew a breath and held it for just a moment. He released the arrow, hearing the gentle swish as it cut through the morning air. This shot was slightly off the mark, to the right and below his first shot, but still within the kill zone, so he nodded with satisfaction.

He knew that some of the fault for Nick's early struggles lay at his feet. The whole reason he'd befriended Nick—and later arranged for him to be assigned to his precinct—was to keep him close. It had been Nick's mother's wish, a deal he'd made with her years before to protect the future Grimm until he came into his inheritance. Killing his aunt and protecting him from the Reapers had been part of the bargain with Kelly Burkhardt; she'd traded on the fact that the men were half-brothers to gain Sean's cooperation, though it had been fortunate that keeping Nick alive had also fit well into Sean's own plans. 

Not knowing how Nick would react should he learn the truth, Sean had worked to gain his loyalty in other ways, though sending Adalind after the key had probably been a bad idea all around. He hadn't counted on actually liking the kid. That had changed everything for him, and he'd gone from pursuing his own agenda to actively working to support Nick. He'd never gotten the chance to come clean with Nick before his secret had been exposed, which had lead to a falling out of epic proportions. Even now it pained him to remember.

"I don't know," Nick said, drawing his attention back to the present. "Would I have been any better off if Aunt Marie had told me about being a Grimm sooner?" He turned and fired at the target, his arrow missing wide to the left. He swore quietly as he picked up another arrow.

"From what you've said, it sounds like your aunt never did like being a Grimm."

"Yeah. _'The misfortune of our family is already passing to you.'_ My mom said they kept it from me because they weren't even sure I'd become a Grimm." He looked at Sean. "Would you have wanted to know, if you were me?"

Sean sighed. "I was raised to know who and what I am. My father made sure I was aware of what was expected of me, so that I'd be prepared when the time came, when they would need me to carry out their plans. And I wouldn't be the leader I am today if my mother hadn't given me the tools I'd need."

"Yeah, but you didn't answer the question," Nick pointed out.

"No, I didn't," Sean said, smiling. He lined up his next shot, smiling in satisfaction when the arrow embedded itself right beside Nick's best shot. He turned back to Nick, who'd been watching him with a knowing smile. "I'd rather know than not. It's a great responsibility, what you are, what I am. How could either of us be who we were meant to be if we don't know what that is? You were lucky that you became a good Grimm anyway, but it just as easily could have turned out differently."

"Monroe told me about Marie's reputation. He said she was one of the worst of the Grimm," Nick said. "She told me that becoming a Grimm knocked her on her ass for a week. Maybe that's what happens when you're not ready."

"So, given that, maybe it's best if you tell Remy who and what he's destined to be," Sean said. "It won't be an easy conversation, but he does have a right to know."

"That's if he believes me at all," Nick said. "I mean, I'm not sure I'd have believed Marie if she'd told me before I started seeing wesen for myself."

They fell silent as they retrieved their spent arrows, packing up their gear as they each contemplated the problem at hand. Sean knew Nick still wondered why his aunt hadn't told him about his inheritance until the very end. Even after talking it over with his mother, once he'd discovered she was still alive, he was still left with questions. Sean had often wondered if part of Marie's motivation had been to keep Nick from turning into the kind of Grimm she'd become. It was why Kelly had asked him to kill Marie in the first place: to prevent her from corrupting Nick with her bloodlust. But even he'd had to consider that she'd changed over the years; that she'd realized her mistake and tried to correct it at the end with her advice to Nick.

And now Nick had to make the same choice for his son. It wasn't an easy choice, and Sean believed there was no right or wrong in this situation, just what was best for everyone involved. But it was also not something he could settle in one day, no matter how hard he tried.

Sean laid a hand on Nick's shoulder. "Stop. You're not going to figure it out today, so just stop thinking about it for a while."

"How did you know I was still thinking about it?" Nick asked.

"I can hear the gears in your head spinning," Sean said, smiling. "You'll know when it's time. In the meantime, you two should spend time together and get to know each other. The rest will sort itself out."

"Yeah," Nick said, sighing. He hitched his case over his shoulder. "You're probably right. I have a feeling I'll know when it's time to tell him. At that point, I guess I just have to hope he trusts me enough to know I'm not lying to him."

"You're his father," Sean reminded him, picking up his own case from the table. "I think he'll accept it. Maybe not today, but at some point your relationship will be solid enough that he'll accept it without question."

"Thanks," Nick said. "I don't know what I'd do without you sometimes."

"You'd manage, like you always do," Sean said, his smile growing.

"I'm glad I don't have to find out."

"Lunch?" Sean asked.

"Yeah," Nick said, smiling.

The two men headed away from the archery range, offering their thanks to the rangemaster as they went. Sean knew this wasn't going to be the last time they had this conversation, but he hoped Nick was at least a little more sure of what he ought to do going forward. It wasn't an easy decision to make, but he'd be right there, supporting his brother as he always did.

~o~ 

"So, why did you and Mom break up?"

Nick looked at Remy, a bit surprised by the question, though he knew he shouldn't be. It had only been a few weeks since they'd met, but it was probably the one topic they hadn't talked about. Still, this was why Nick had invited Remy to lunch: so they could get to know each other, and so Remy could ask all the questions he didn't feel comfortable asking in front of anyone else.

Nick took a sip of his soda. "What did your mother tell you?"

"She said that she loved you, but she just knew it wasn't going to work." Remy shrugged. "I never could get her to tell me any more than that."

Nick could see the frustration in his son's eyes. He'd wanted a better answer, and he couldn't blame Juliette for not giving him one. She probably hadn't known how to tell him about any of the Grimm stuff, and without that, her leaving probably didn't make much sense. Still, he could offer Remy more than what his mother had told him. Not much, but something had to be better than nothing.

"Juliette was kidnapped," he said quietly. Remy's eyes went huge. "Hank—my partner back then, Hank Griffin—he and I were working this arson case, and our chief suspect was this Gulf War veteran who'd gone a little crazy. His daughter grabbed your mom and used her as bait to get me to come after her father."

"What for?" Remy asked, the horror he felt at such a thing obvious.

"She thought that if I killed him while taking my girlfriend back, that it would give him an honorable death." Nick shuddered at the memory. It wasn't the whole truth, but Remy didn't need to know about the _daemonfeuer_ , or his crazy daughter, or the funeral pyre she lit after he'd killed her father.

"Suicide by cop."

"Something like that," Nick said. He was a little proud that Remy understood. The kid might just make a good cop after all.

Just then, their lunch arrived—a classic club sandwich for him and meatloaf for Remy. Blueplate was one of the coolest restaurants in Portland. They didn't have ovens, or a traditional cooktop, but the food they served was top-rate and not too expensive. Nick had discovered it quite by accident one day, and it had quickly became one of is favorites. 

"You two need anything else?" the waiter, asked.

"Thanks, Tim," Nick shook his head with a smile.

"You bet," Tim said. He moved off, and Nick and Remy turned their attention to their lunches.

They were sitting at the end of the counter, Nick around the corner from Remy so they could look at each other. They both dove in like starving men, neither of them talking for a few long minutes.

"So, Mom couldn't take being a cop's girlfriend?" Remy asked after a few bites.

Nick sighed, putting his sandwich down. "I don't blame her for that. It's not easy being with me. My job is always my first priority, and more often than not I'd get called away on a case that would interrupt whatever we'd been doing. And then the cases started following me home. That was sort of the last straw for her."

Of course, it didn’t help that the cases following him home were wesen-related. But even if it'd just been your garden variety serial killers, he'd still have let her go. He never wanted to put her in danger, and it was clear to him that his Aunt Marie had been right: being a Grimm was too dangerous for Juliette.

"So, is that why you're still single?"

"You mean, am I still single because no woman would put up with that?" Nick asked. When Remy nodded, he went on. "Not really. It's tough finding a woman who doesn't hold it against me when I have to bail out on a date to head to a crime scene, but I've dated a bit since your mom and I broke up. But mostly, I'm just as happy being single. I have my friends, and then there's Sean; being the Police Chief, he understands when I get called away because it happens to him, too."

"Your brother—he's the Police Chief?" Remy sputtered. "Holy cow!"

Nick chuckled. "I guess he doesn't look much like a Police Chief."

"Not really," Remy said. He took a bite of his lunch, chewing thoughtfully for a moment. "It's just… he dresses nicer than a cop. So do you, for that matter."

Nick looked down at the suit he was wearing. "Yeah, well, Sean took me to his tailor about five minutes after my promotion came through. Said I couldn't be a Captain in 'those cheap suits' I used to own."

Remy laughed. "He's got a point. Most cops do wear terrible suits."

"I used to be able to wear jeans and a t-shirt to work," Nick said with note of nostalgia. He still wore jeans every once in a while, but even they were nice, and he always wore a suit coat and dress shirt with them. It was the one concession to his job he was willing to make.

"So, I get the feeling that you two didn't grow up together," Remy said.

"No, we didn't." Nick thought for a minute about how he wanted to tell this story. Not because he didn't want Remy to know. He wanted to be an open book—as much as possible, anyway—to his son. They were building a relationship, and he needed Remy to know that he trusted him. Still, he knew there was a lot about this particular story he'd have to leave out.

"After your mom left, my friends stepped in and helped take my mind off of what happened," he said. "I was working Homicide at the time, and Sean was my Captain, so he could see how hard the breakup was on me. A couple of weeks after Juliette left, he took me out to this private sporting club he belongs to. We went skeet and trap shooting; it was actually a lot more fun than I'd expected. On the way out, he added my name to his membership so I could come out whenever I needed to and blow off steam."

Remy raised an eyebrow. "Pretty nice of him to do for a subordinate."

"Yeah, I was suspicious, too," Nick confessed. "But having people around me that cared was nice. Hank, our Sergeant—Lou Wu—and I would go out and play pool and drink beer and complain about women. My friend Monroe would go with us every once in a while, too. But I think I spent a lot more time with Sean than anyone else. We'd go to lunch or dinner, out to the club on the weekends."

"Sounds like you have a lot of good friends," Remy said.

"I do, actually," Nick said, smiling. "So, about six months after the breakup, Sean and I got into a huge fight. We didn't speak outside of normal work conversations for another six months after that."

"Wow."

"Yeah," Nick said, agreeing wholeheartedly.

"What'd you fight about?" Remy asked.

Nick had hoped he wouldn't ask, because this was the part he couldn't tell him without revealing the whole 'Your dad is a Grimm' thing, but he knew he could tell at least part of it.

"Sean was keeping some pretty big secrets from me—including the part about being my half-brother," he said. "I found out one night when we were on a stakeout together. Hank had gone out of town—the one time he actually takes a vacation—so Sean stepped in to help. We got into it right there on the street. I said some pretty choice words, and then I punched him and told him to stay the hell away from me."

That had been the night that Nick had found out that Sean was the Lord Protector—the Prince—of Portland Canton. And that he'd been responsible for Marie's death. And that he'd been trying to manipulate Nick to gain his loyalty—and access to that damnable key. It had been ugly, but it was bound to happen. Secrets like that have a tendency to come out, and this one came out in spectacular fashion, damaging more than just the two of them.

"Damn."

"Not my finest hour, I'll admit."

"So, obviously you made up," Remy said.

"Yeah," Nick said, smiling at the memory. This, he could share. "A friend of mine told me I was being an ass, and that sometimes it's not all about me."

Remy smiled. "In other words, Monroe kicked your ass all over town."

Nick laughed. "Yes, he did. So, I went to see Sean. We spent the weekend together, talking about what had happened and where we could go from there."

It had been a long and painful conversation, in which Sean had confessed a lot of things Nick had been surprised to learn, not least of which was that they shared a father. He'd been disappointed to know that Reed Burkhardt wasn't his biological father, but he'd gained a brother and an ally in the process. Now, the bastard sons of Marcel Renard stood together, and woe betide anyone who tried to move against them.

"But he was still your boss," Remy pointed out.

"He's always going to be my boss," Nick said. "He outranked me then, and he still outranks me. But we're both professionals, and we try not to let our personal relationship get in the way of the work. Once we'd cleared the air and I knew that we were brothers, we reported it to the department. We’ve always been honest about our relationship, and I think that goes a long way toward people trusting us to do the right thing."

Silence fell as they finished off their meals. Nick knew there'd be more questions later, when he finally told Remy about being a Grimm, but for now he hoped that what he'd said would be enough.

"So, do you think you'll ever get married?"

"You done?" Nick asked, pointing at Remy's plate. 

"Yeah," Remy said.

It wasn't that Nick was avoiding the question, but it wasn't as simple as yes or no. He'd always held out hope that he could find someone, but that woman would have to put up with a lot—not to mention believing some rather fantastical truths—in order to be with a Grimm. His aunt had dated a _steinadler_ , which made him wonder if dating a wesen was the way to go. That had its own problems, given what he was. As a result of being a Grimm, he would be blessed with a longer life, so he still had time. It was just a question of finding the right person.

Nick tossed some bills onto the counter and waved at Tim on the way out. Once on the street, he turned them toward his car. "I've thought about finding someone, settling down. Ultimately, it's more about finding someone who can put up with what I do. My job's dangerous, and my hours haven't always been exactly regular. Now that I'm a Captain, it's better, but I still get calls at all hours. It's tough to find someone who can handle the danger and the demands on my time." He looked at Remy. "You wouldn't be upset if your mom and I never got back together?"

Remy smiled. "No. If it hasn't happened by now, I doubt it will, and I'm okay with that. Just as long as you're happy. If finding someone else makes you happy, then I'm all for it."

"Fair enough," Nick said. He put his hand on Remy's shoulder, giving it a squeeze. He was glad to have his son's support, even if they'd only just met. It made it easier, somehow.

Nick felt something press into his back, and alarm bells started going off in his head. He moved his hand, intent on getting it free to reach for his gun when a voice in his ear froze him mid-motion.

...continued...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI--there really is a restaurant called BluePlate in Portland. It was featured on an episode of _Diners, Drive-Ins & Dives_ a while back. I've always wanted to go, but I don't get up to Portland very often. Someday...


	3. Chapter 3

~o~

"Don't even think about it," the man ordered. "Just keep walking. Both of you."

"What do you want?" Nick asked. 

"Into the alley," the man said. 

Remy glanced behind them and saw the man pointing a gun at his father's back. Panic rose in him, but he tamped it down. It wouldn't help them get out of the situation if he freaked out. His father had enough to worry about.

The man gave Nick a shove, and Nick stumbled into the alley; Remy reached out to steady him. 

"It'll be okay," Nick said. Remy knew it was a lie, but he couldn't fault him for trying to calm him down the only way he could.

Nick turned, keeping his son behind him. Remy stepped to the side just a bit, just so he could keep an eye on both his father and their attacker. He saw his father's eyes go wide as he got his first good look at the man who'd herded them into the alley. Nick's hand drifted down to his holster, stopping before it ever got close when the man in question held up his gun.

"Looking for this?"

"You'll never find them," Nick said. "I've hidden them too well. And I'm not going to tell you where they are."

"Oh, you'll tell, alright," the man said. He moved his gun, pointing it at Remy. "You'll tell me anything I want to know or the boy dies. It's as simple as that."

Remy gasped at the coldness in the man's eyes. He was slightly disheveled, with graying hair and scarring on his face, as if he'd been in a knife fight and the wounds had never properly healed. It made him look even more menacing. And there was something else there, something more frightening; a madness, fraying the man at the edges. Remy knew this situation could spiral out of control at the smallest provocation, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. And even though his father was a cop, their attacker had two guns and just enough crazy to do what he was threatening to do.

Suddenly, Nick was lashing out, knocking his gun out of the other man's hand as his other hand gripped the man's gun, trying to wrestle it out of his hand. They struggled with each other for a few moments, the gun between them, until it went off, knocking Nick back against Remy.

Remy saw the panic on their attacker's face. He darted back out onto the street, and Remy wanted desperately to go after him, to stop him any way he could, but he couldn’t leave his father. He reached out, cradling Nick as he slid down to the ground, his body going limp from shock.

He laid Nick out on the ground, staring at his hands as he pulled them back. There was so much blood; he'd never realized just how much someone bled when they were shot. He could see the red stain spreading on the front of Nick's shirt, his life bleeding out of him as the seconds flew by. Wiping his hands on his pants, he riffled through Nick's pockets until he came up with his cell phone. 

He could see Nick fading before his eyes, panic rising in his chest. Quickly scrolling through the contacts list, he found the entry he was looking for and dialed the number, hoping against hope he wouldn't be too late. 

~o~

Sean settled into the back seat of his SUV, not looking forward to his upcoming meeting with the mayor. He might be good at politics, but that didn't mean he had to like it. His only consolation was that human politics might be thought of as bloodsport, but no one meant that literally. Wesen politics, on the other hand, made bloodsports look like a child's game of tag.

His phone rang, and he pulled it out of his jacket pocket, checking the caller ID before answering.

"Nick, I only have a minute—"

"It's not Nick," the voice on the other end of the line said. Sean could hear the panic in the familiar voice.

"Remy?" he asked. "What are you doing with Nick's phone?"

A feeling of cold dread pooled in his gut.

"My dad's been shot!" Remy shouted into the phone. "Oh, god! He's bleeding! Help me, Sean!"

"Okay, Remy," Sean said more calmly than he felt. "Tell me where you are."

"We just had lunch at Blueplate," Remy said. "We’re in the alley down the street."

Sean could still hear the panic in his voice, but he seemed at least to have regained some control. He turned to his driver. "Call dispatch. Send units and a bus to the three hundred block of Southwest Washington—the alley on the east side. Officer down." He took a breath, then returned his attention to the phone. "Remy? Are you still there?"

"I'm here," Remy said. "He's bleeding so much. What do I do?"

"Remy, listen to me," Sean said. "I want you to put the phone on speaker, then set it down. Can you do that?"

"Yeah," Remy said. Sean waited for a moment, then heard the sounds of traffic nearby getting louder. "Okay, now what?"

"Put your hands over his wound," Sean said. "You need to stop the bleeding as much as possible."

"Oh, god," Remy said. "Okay. Okay, I'm doing it. Now what?"

"Talk to me," Sean said. He willed his driver to go faster even as they sailed around a corner, sirens blaring. "Tell me what happened."

"We were heading back to the car after lunch," Remy said. Sean could hear him huffing a little, as if he were trying to catch his breath. "This guy came up behind us and forced us into the alley. Dad seemed to know him."

"How do you know?" If the situation hadn't been so critical, Sean might have been pleased to hear Remy call Nick 'Dad'. As it was, he was trying very hard to fight the desire to go after this bastard himself. He knew that wouldn't end well.

"I don't know," Remy said. "It was like I'd walked into a conversation in the middle. Dad said 'You'll never find them' and that he'd hidden whatever it was and wouldn't tell him where they were. What was he talking about?"

Sean's blood ran cold. He hoped he was wrong, but somehow, he knew he wasn't.

"Did your dad say anything else?" he asked. "The guy's name, maybe?"

"No," Remy said. "He just went for the gun. They fought, and it went off. Oh, god, he's not moving!"

"Remy!" Sean barked out.

There was a brief pause. "Yeah, I'm here."

"I'm almost there," Sean said in as soothing a tone as he could. "And the ambulance is on its way. Just hang in there."

"I can hear the siren," Remy said, and Sean strained to hear through the phone line, but he wasn't sure if it was the ambulance he could hear, or his own vehicle.

~o~

The Police Chief's SUV screeched to a stop near the edge of the scene. The street was a mass of chaos, several police cruisers, their lights still flashing, were sitting on both sides of the street nearly blocking traffic. There was an ambulance sitting in the middle, its rear doors wide open. Officers and spectators were scattered all around. 

Sean jumped out of the SUV and charged across the street, headed for the alley that Remy had said they were in. He saw Hank Griffin talking to a uniformed officer—Sergeant Reynolds, from Nick's precinct, if he remembered the tall brunette correctly. Hank must have seen him, because he was headed Sean's way.

"Lieutenant," Sean said as the other man joined him. "What have you got?"

"Not much," Hank said. "No one remembers seeing the guy, but it was lunchtime, so most of them were focused on getting their food and getting back to the office. We're going to pull the surveillance for the bank down the block, and I've got uniforms canvassing the surrounding businesses, checking to see if any of them have cameras."

Sean took a deep breath. It was one thing to talk about such things when it was a stranger. He'd been at enough crime scenes in his time as a cop to know the drill. But this was different. This was Nick, and as much as he wanted to believe that the work was the same no matter the victim, he knew that was a lie. At least he knew the case would be in good hands. Hank had become the Chief of Detectives several years back, and though he didn't work cases anymore, it appeared he was working this one.

"And Nick?" he asked, pulling himself back to the present.

Hank's eyes flicked to the alley, where the paramedics were stabilizing their patient. Sean's gaze followed his, and he could see them bringing him out on a gurney, loading him into the back of the ambulance. He couldn't see much, but what he could see chilled him to the bone. Nick lay on the gurney, pale as a ghost except where the blood had stained his clothes a bright red. Sean desperately wanted to go to him, to ride to the hospital with him, but he knew he couldn't. Right now, he was the Police Chief, and he had larger responsibilities. 

"He lost a lot of blood," Hank said. "But he was still alive when the paramedics got here. He's strong. He'll pull through."

Sean silently agreed. Nick would get the best care; he'd recover and be back to work sooner than any of them would like. He had to think that way, because the alternative was too awful for words.

"Remy's a tough kid," Hank said as they watched him emerge from the alley. "He was putting pressure on Nick's wound when the paramedics got here."

Sean ran a hand over his face. "He told me he thought Nick recognized the shooter."

Hank's eyes shifted to meet his. "Did he say who it was?"

"No," Sean said, shaking his head. "But I have an idea. Remy said Nick told the guy he'd never find them."

The two men shared a look. "Damn," Hank whispered.

"Yes," Sean said. "Make sure you get the surveillance video ASAP. If I'm right, this isn't over."

"You got it," Hank said. 

He turned and headed in the direction of the nearest uniformed officer, while Sean's attention turned to Remy. The ambulance took off, lights and sirens blaring, leaving Remy standing alone, looking lost. Sean walked over, putting a hand on the kid's shoulder, drawing his attention.

"Sean," Remy said.

His voice was choked, as if he was hanging on by his fingernails. Sean drew him into his arms, just holding him there. Right at that moment, Remy looked so much like Nick had the first time he'd met him. So young and innocent and full of promise. He hated that he'd had to see his father shot after only knowing him for a few short weeks. The blood staining his clothes was a stark reminder that he'd had his innocence ripped away. And despite the fact that Nick had said he was thinking of becoming a cop, he still wanted to protect Remy's innocence for as long as possible.

He pulled back, looking into the desolate face of the young man so like his brother. "Come on. I'll take you to the hospital."

Remy nodded, wincing slightly. Sean slid an arm around his shoulders and guided him back to his SUV, bundling him into the back seat beside him for the ride to the hospital. 

~o~ 

Minutes had turned into hours as the doctors had worked on Nick. Remy and Sean had waited impatiently, both men sitting in the waiting room, watching as people came and went. Sean had been the picture of calm, sitting quietly beside him. Every once in a while, his phone would ring; he'd speak quietly with whoever it was on the other end of the line, then he'd put it away and resume his vigil.

Remy understood in those lonely hours just how close his father was to the older man. Sean Renard was a powerful man, but he was also confident and steady. He'd stood by Remy as the doctors had explained what was going on, asking his input and giving him a voice in every decision. He didn't have to, but Remy appreciated being included. He felt like he was part of this family now. He only wished it hadn't taken his father getting shot.

They'd finally settled in his father's room in ICU. There were a couple of chairs that they'd commandeered and set up on opposite sides of the bed, both of them in easy reach should Nick wake up and not know where he was. There were rules about visitors to the ICU, but apparently the nurses weren't interested in fighting it out with the Police Chief, because they hadn't been run off yet. 

His father still looked pale, but at least he was still alive. The doctor had said that he'd coded in the ambulance, and again in the operating room. He was weak, and the next 48 hours would be critical. They were hopeful, but Remy got the impression that it could go either way.

He'd thought about calling his mother; he figured that even though they weren't together anymore, she might like to know that Nick had been shot. But, he just couldn't seem to pick up the phone. And honestly, he didn't really feel like he needed her right now. He had Sean, and that seemed to be enough.

One of the nurses appeared beside Remy, smiling down at him before moving to check on Nick. The machines helping him breathe and monitoring his heart beeped quietly, letting them all know that, for the time being, all was well. She checked his vital signs, making notes on the chart and checking fluid levels.

Remy watched her absently. It was a routine one or the other of the nurses had performed every hour on the hour since Nick had been brought in. He knew that the nurse's station had monitors hooked to the equipment in the room, so they could just as easily check from there and never have to come into the room, but Remy got the impression that they were also checking on himself and Sean, making sure they were still okay. He thought it was sweet, though unnecessary. 

The nurse—a pretty young woman with light brown hair and green eyes—smiled at him once more, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. Her gaze flicked over to Sean, whose eyes hadn't left Nick's face since she'd entered. Something in her face shifted, and for just a moment, if he didn't know better, he'd have thought he was looking at some sort of rabbit. 

He gasped, recoiling from her slightly. Her eyes widened, and she stepped back, dropping her hand from his shoulder and covering her mouth. She looked from Remy to Sean—who had, by now, noticed the commotion and was watching the exchange—and then to Nick. And then she fled the room.

Remy watched her go, then turned to Sean, his face drawn down in a confused frown. "What the hell?"

Sean sat up straighter, looking at Remy with a piercing gaze. "What did you see?"

Remy shook his head. "I—for a second, I thought I saw—but—she looked like a rabbit!"

"Damn," Sean said.

...continued...


	4. Chapter 4

~o~

Sean stood up, circling around the foot of the bed. Remy stood up, and Sean pulled him into his arms. He glanced over Remy's head to where Nick lay on the bed, machines breathing for him and beeping out the steady if weak beat of his heart.

Sean had hoped this wouldn't happen. The fact that it had scared him, because it meant he could be losing Nick. But, he had to set that worry aside for the moment. He couldn't do any more to help Nick, but he could help Remy.

Pulling back, he rested his hands on the younger man's shoulders, looking deep into his eyes. "Is this the first time you've seen this?"

"Yeah," Remy said. "Do you know what's going on?"

Sean could see the confusion on his face, and couldn't blame him one bit. He was about to be introduced to a world he had no idea existed, and it would be a crash course, much like his father's had been. And there was no doubt now that Remy was Nick's son.

"Sit down, Remy," he said. 

Remy dropped back into his chair, while Sean opted to perch on the bed beside Nick. Somehow, having his brother close made it easier to handle what he was about to do. He and Nick had talked about what to tell Remy and when. He simply hadn't expected that conversation to come so soon. Nor had he expected to be the one having that conversation. But, there was no help for it now. Remy was looking at him expectantly, so he knew he'd have to quit stalling and start explaining.

"Your father is what's known as a Grimm," he said, preferring not to beat around the bush.

"What's a Grimm?" Remy asked, frowning.

"Did your mother ever read to you from the Grimm Fairy Tales?"

"Yeah," Remy said, frowning. "But those were just stories."

"No, they weren't," Sean said. "The Brothers Grimm were profilers—researchers—of a sort. They studied the world of creatures, what we call wesen."

"What's a wesen?"

"A wesen looks like a human to most people," Sean said. "But, there's a creature living inside that ordinary humans can't see. The Grimm can see the wesen within the man—or woman. Sometimes, wesen turn bad, and it's the job of the Grimm to hunt them down. Your father prefers to arrest them for the crimes they commit, but in the past, the Grimm have simply killed wesen."

"How did this happen?" Remy asked. Sean could hear the desperation in his voice. "I mean, did he always know he was a Grimm? How did he become one?"

"Your father's family is descended from a long line of Grimms," Sean said. "His aunt was a Grimm before him. When she died, he inherited her gift."

Remy's eyes went wide. "Does that mean Dad's gonna die?"

Sean sighed. "I don't know. I do know that Nick began to be able to see wesen before his aunt died."

"And you? Are you one of these Grimm, too?"

Sean's gaze flicked to Nick for a moment, before returning to Remy. "Not a Grimm, no. I am the Lord Protector of the Portland Canton, Prince Sean Renard."

"You're a prince?" Remy blurted out.

Sean smiled briefly. That had been a better reaction than the one he'd gotten from Nick, but to be fair, Nick had known him longer and he'd committed other sins that had enraged his brother.

"I am."

"Do you look like that nurse?" he asked. His eyes flicked to the doorway, then back to Sean.

"No," Sean said. 

He relaxed some, letting his true nature rise to the surface. He watched Remy's eyes widen further at what he saw. Sean's true appearance wasn't remarkably different than the face that most people saw. He felt the golden crown circling his head, and he felt his eyes burn a brighter green than they normally did. His features, handsome already, sharpened and smoothed, until he was a creature of beauty and light.

"Oh my god!" Remy said.

Sean leashed his nature once more, feeling the change slide away from him until only his normal appearance remained.

"And I'm the only one that can see that?" Remy asked.

"Other wesen can also see, when I wish it," Sean said. "Normally, I keep my true nature hidden. There's no need to flaunt it. My people know who I am. They don't follow me because of my appearance; they follow me because I am their Protector."

"And the nurse?" Remy asked. "What's she?"

"The nurse is a _feldhase_ ," Sean said. "A field hare. They are timid by nature, but nurturing. Quite a lot of them are teachers and caregivers."

"Do the creatures—the wesen—always look like wild animals?"

Sean chuckled. He'd bet Monroe would take umbrage to being described as a 'wild animal'. "Wesen most often resemble some sort of animal, though there are some that do not."

"Wow," Remy said, flopping back in the chair. "And Dad knew I'd become a Grimm? Why didn't he tell me?"

"We discussed it," Sean said. "We both felt that you didn't need to know right now. You've got school and friends; there was no need to burden you with this knowledge. But, we both understood that there would come a day when he would need to tell you. Unfortunately, that day came sooner than either of us expected." 

He paused, eyeing Remy carefully. The kid looked surprised, but he hadn't run from the room, so Sean considered the conversation a success. "He did want you to know, Remy. He wasn't told, so he always felt like he was unprepared for his task. It's taken him many years to become skilled as a Grimm. I think he wanted you to know sooner so you wouldn't be surprised. Clearly, that didn't happen. But, I think he'd still be proud of the way you're handling this."

"You mean because I haven't freaked out yet?" Remy asked. At Sean's nod, he went on. "Is this why Mom left him?"

"I don't believe Juliette knew how to handle any of this," Sean said. "Your mother made a choice; the only choice she felt she could make. But understand that Nick never blamed her for making that choice. He knew this was a lot to deal with, and being his girlfriend put her in danger."

"Dad said she was kidnapped," Remy said, his eyes taking on a faraway gleam. "It was a wesen, wasn't it?"

Sean nodded. "A _daemonfeuer_ —a fire-breather. She had no idea, but it was what prompted him to tell her about being a Grimm."

"So, what do I do now?" Remy asked, looking back at Sean. "I mean, is there some Grimm thing I should be doing?"

"You're best served being here for your father, Remy," Sean said, smiling fondly. "My department is investigating Nick's shooting. As soon as they have anything concrete, we'll know."

"But you suspect it's wesen related," Remy said.

"I do," Sean said. "But until that's confirmed, there's nothing either of us can do."

Remy sighed. "I'm not exactly good at waiting."

"You're doing fine," Sean assured him. "And I'll be right here beside you. You don't have to do this alone."

Remy looked up, offering a weak smile. "Thanks."

~o~

Hank appeared in the doorway a short while later, his face grim as he looked Nick over. Sean had retaken his seat on the far side of Nick's bed, but stood to join the Chief of Detectives.

"How's he doing?" Hank asked.

"He's stable for the moment," Sean said. He guided Hank back to the door, away from Remy, who'd acknowledged Hank's arrival with a smile, then went back to watching his father. "What have you got?"

Hank pulled his phone out of his jacket pocket. "Turns out our perp walked right past the bank's camera. We've got video."

He tapped on his phone, pulling up the footage. Angling the phone so both men could see, he pressed play. The video rolled, showing a man dressed in jeans and a dark jacket moving fairly quickly past the bank. He fit the general description Remy had given them of the man that shot Nick.

Hank paused the video, zooming on the man's face. "Recognize him?"

Sean looked closer. "Putain de merde."

"You said it," Hank said. "Farley Kolt."

The two men shared a look. There could be only one reason for the _steinadler_ to be in Portland: the coins. Both men had been affected by them the first time they'd surfaced. It had taken them both some time to fully shake the effects. Sean could only imagine how addicted Kolt had become if he was still chasing them nearly twenty years later.

"Do we know where he is?"

Hank shook his head. "So far, nothing. He's not using credit cards, as far as we can tell—or at least not under the name Kolt. Kimura implied that he'd tortured him to death. If I hadn't seen him on this video, I'd still believe it."

Sean looked behind him, finding Remy sitting close to Nick's bed, still watching his father. Looking back to Hank, he took a deep breath. "I want 24 hour protection for Nick. And not humans. Have your wife pull together a list; she'll know who the wesen on the force are."

"What about Remy?" Hank asked, flicking his eyes to the young man, then back to his boss.

Sean sighed. "He's started seeing them."

Hank had had a rather abrupt initiation into the world of the wesen when he and Adalind had first gotten serious. He'd been surprisingly accepting of it all, and Sean had never been more grateful for that than at this moment, when he didn't have to explain the importance of what was happening.

"Damn," Hank said, gusting out a sigh. "Should I have Adalind round up a detail for him, too?"

"No," Sean said, shaking his head. "For the time being, he'll be with me. I doubt Kolt has a death wish, so he should be safe."

"How's he handling it?"

"Well, all things considered," Sean said. "I just hope that it'll stop when Nick wakes up."

What neither one of the men were saying was that no one was certain if Nick would wake up. The bullet had nicked both the liver and the femoral artery. He'd been lucky to survive the surgery, the doctor had told them. Now, it was a waiting game. And while Sean knew a great deal about the Grimm, he had no idea whether Remy would stop seeing wesen when Nick woke up. He hoped so, but he simply didn't know.

"Do you know where the coins are?" Hank asked, breaking into Sean's thoughts.

He shook his head. "Nick didn't tell me where he hid them, and I didn't ask. It wasn't worth the risk." He glanced at Remy again. "I might know someone who does."

"Monroe," Hank said, nodding.

"Yes," Sean confirmed. With he and Hank both affected the first time the coins surfaced, he couldn't risk either of them handling them. "He offered his help when I called him earlier. Perhaps it's time to take him up on that offer."

"Good idea," Hank said. "Meanwhile, we're still looking for Kolt. I don't know if he had any other contacts here, but we're working as many angles as we can think of. Hopefully something turns up soon."

"Thank you, Hank."

"Yeah," Hank said. "Let me know if anything changes."

Sean nodded, watching as Hank turned and strode down the hall. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through his contacts list in search of one specific number.

...continued...


	5. Chapter 5

~o~

Remy had been so wrapped up in watching his father that he'd barely noticed Lieutenant Griffin come and go. He knew that the man was a friend of his father's, and that he was still with the Department, so he assumed it had something to do with the man that shot his father. But he figured that Sean would tell him if the visit was something he needed to know about.

His head was still swimming with everything Sean had told him, anyway. If he hadn't seen the nurse turn into—what had Sean called it? A _feldhase_?—he might not have believed any of it. He'd only known his father for a few weeks, so he couldn't really blame him for keeping this a secret. But it was a lot to take in. His father was a Grimm—like the brothers who wrote the fairy tales, Sean had told him—and it was his job to watch over the wesen community, settling disputes and hunting down the wesen who caused harm to humans or other wesen.

He wondered if this was why his father had been drawn to law enforcement, and why he seemed to have always wanted to be a cop. It seemed like a natural fit for someone who could see what others couldn't. And now that he'd had a bit of time to digest it all, he thought it made perfect sense. There'd always been people that he'd thought were a bit off, as if there were something at work beyond the obvious. Now that he knew what that might be, it made him feel better, oddly enough. 

His eyes wandered over his father's face, so much like his own. He thought it was ironic that he'd gotten so much of his features from his father, and now he'd inherited this Grimm ability, too. He couldn't wait for Nick to wake up so they could talk about it all. He was hanging on to that positive thought, because despite how nice Sean had been about the whole thing, he didn't want to do this without his father.

A hand to his shoulder made him jump slightly. He turned sheepish eyes to Sean, but then noticed someone hanging back near the door. He was tall, bearded with dark hair, wearing jeans and a bulky sweater with what he could only assume was a flannel shirt underneath. He looked like he'd stepped off the pages of an LL Bean catalog.

"Remy, this is Monroe," Sean said, indicating the man who'd joined them. "He's a friend of your father's."

Remy stood up, extending his hand to shake the other man's. There was something about him that niggled at the back of his mind, but he couldn't quite figure out what it was.

"Dad's told me about you," Remy said, smiling. "You're the clock-maker, right?"

Monroe looked from Remy to Sean and back. "Yeah, I am." He turned to Sean. "Does he know?"

"Know what?"

"Monroe is a _blutbad_ ," Sean said.

"A what?" Remy asked, confused.

Sean looked to Monroe, and the two men seemed to share some sort of non-verbal communication. Remy had to wonder if it was a wesen thing, assuming Monroe was a wesen. That assumption was confirmed a moment later when Monroe's appearance shifted. Remy pulled back a fraction, his eyes going wide.

"A wolf?" he asked, shocked. "You're a wolf? Like Red Riding Hood, the Big Bad Wolf kind of wolf?"

"Yeah, yeah," Monroe said, his features returning to their human appearance as he rolled his eyes. "Your father and I have already been down this road. And it's _wieder-blutbad_ , thank you very much."

"Wieder?" Remy asked. "As in 'new'?"

Monroe looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "You speak German?"

Remy shrugged. "My mother insisted I take it in school. Said it might come in handy."

Again Monroe and Sean shared a look. He guessed that was news to both of them. It made sense to him now, though. His mother had read the old Grimm Fairy Tales to him when he was little, had insisted that he take German when all his friends were taking Spanish. She'd encouraged his artistic abilities and gotten him interested in archery and track. What if she'd been doing her part to prepare him to become a Grimm all along, despite her misgivings about being married to one? It was an interesting thought, but something he should probably table until later.

"Remy," Sean said, turning to Remy and placing his hand on his shoulder. "I want you to go with Monroe. There's something I need you to look for, and he can help."

"But—"

"This is important," Sean said, cutting him off.

"Does it have to do with the man who shot my father?"

If it were possible, Sean's eyes became harder, the green fire flickering just for an instant. "Yes, it does."

Remy looked to Monroe, who had a determined expression on his face. "Okay. Let's go."

"Thank you, Remy," Sean said. He squeezed Remy's shoulder, then dropped his hand.

"My car's just outside," Monroe said.

Remy nodded and followed the other man down to the car. He had to laugh when he saw it. A bright yellow Beetle; a classic, but still a VW.

"Hey, don't laugh," Monroe said as he unlocked the car. "This thing's been all over Portland bailing your father's ass out of trouble."

"I'm surprised he was willing to be seen in public in this thing."

Monroe started the car as Remy fastened his seatbelt. "I keep it in top condition, I'll have you know."

"Uh huh," Remy said, still smiling. 

He had to believe that Monroe had other redeeming qualities besides the car. He'd heard some things about the man from Nick, but not a lot. To hear his father tell it, he and Monroe had been to hell and back, and knowing now that his father was a Grimm, it made a bit more sense. Having a wolf for a sidekick might actually come in handy.

"So," Remy said into the silence. "How did you and my father meet?"

"What did he tell you?"

"That you met on a case. But that sounds like something you tell people at a party because the real story is too embarrassing to admit to."

"Yeah," Monroe said. "But it has the added benefit of being true."

"Okay, I'll bite," Remy said. "How does a Grimm meet a _wieder-blutbad_ on a case? I mean, did you wolf out on him or something?"

"I do not wolf out, I'll have you know," Monroe said, protesting weakly.

"Right, and I don't smell like scorched earth," Remy muttered.

"How'd you know that?" Monroe asked, a tad sharply.

Remy shrugged. "It's just something clinging to my Dad. I notice it right after all the Grimm stuff started showing up. It's like the smell in the air after a lightning strike."

"Yeah, it is," Monroe said quietly.

"So, you ever going to tell me?"

Monroe huffed out a breath. "Not much to tell. A little girl went missing in the park across from my house. Nick saw me—the real me—and practically tackled me through my front door, demanding I tell him where she was. Like I would know. I'm wieder, but try telling the baby Grimm that. Your Dad doesn't always listen well."

"I'm surprised you didn't take his head off," Remy said.

"Oh I gave as good as I got," Monroe said, smiling. "But instead of scaring him, he comes back for more." He shook his head. "Stupid Grimm."

Remy smiled. "Is that how you wound up as my Dad's _blutbad_ sidekick?"

"I am nobody's sidekick," Monroe protested, rather more forcefully than necessary. "Least of all his. If he had a little more self-preservation instinct, I wouldn't have had to bail him out so many times. I swear—did he tell you about the roh-hatz? It was his second case as a Grimm—"

"I only found out about the Grimm stuff about an hour ago," Remy said quietly.

"Sorry." Remy shrugged, turning to look out the window. Monroe looked at him for the space of a heartbeat, then sighed. "Remind me later to tell you about some of the cases we've worked together. Your father has this amazing capacity for getting knee-deep in shit most other people have the good sense to run from."

"Thanks, Monroe," Remy said, offering a small smile. "I'll do that." 

They rode quietly for a few minutes, the blocks sliding away in a slow blur as they moved through the city. Remy hadn't been in Portland all that long, so it didn't take much to get him lost, but even he didn't recognize the area.

"Where are we headed?"

"Your father keeps a trailer at a storage lot near here," Monroe said. He'd been constantly checking his mirrors as they'd driven, and Remy got the feeling like they were taking the scenic route.

"What's in the trailer?" Remy asked. Monroe glanced at him, clearly trying to decide what to tell him. "Hey, you're taking me there; I'm gonna find out in a few minutes anyway."

Monroe gusted out a sigh. "Yeah. It's your father's Grimmoire; his tools and books. He inherited it from his aunt when she died."

"Ah," Remy said. 

Monroe turned into a driveway, entering a code on the keypad just in front of the gate. It rattled open slowly, and when it had almost finished, Monroe edged the Beetle through, navigating the aisles until he pulled to a stop beside a silver Airstream trailer.

"We're here," Monroe said unnecessarily. 

They climbed out of the car and headed over to the trailer. Monroe riffled through his key ring until he came to the right key, fitting it into the lock and turning. The door swung open, and Monroe stepped aside, holding out a hand to indicate that Remy should step inside. He noticed Monroe checking around them before stepping in behind him and closing the door.

"Holy shit!" Remy said as his eyes took in the trailer.

There were books stacked everywhere, bottles of strange colored liquids, chests and cabinets in every corner. There was a large desk sitting in the middle of the space, and a small bed to one side. The trailer looked bigger inside than it did on the outside, if that were possible; like some sort of bizarre TARDIS. He also noted that his father wasn't much of a housekeeper. The trailer wasn't dirty, per se, but there was a distinct lived-in vibe, as though he'd just been here rifling through the books and had left everything just lying around.

Monroe chuckled. "Yeah, that's about how I reacted the first time Nick sent me here. If you think this is wild, you should see the weapons."

He crossed the room and pulled open a cabinet. Remy joined him, his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. "It looks like a medieval torture chamber."

"Yeah, well, some wesen aren't affected by conventional weapons." He tugged a long, flat case out of the cabinet and set it on the floor, flipping the lid open. Inside was a huge gun, big enough to fell an elephant. "I had to use this thing on a _siegbarste_ once. It was the only thing that'd penetrate his hide."

"A _siegbarste_?"

"Think the ogre from Jack and the Beanstalk," Monroe said as he closed up the case and put it back in the cabinet.

"So, hard to kill and a little stupid?" Remy asked.

Monroe chuckled. "Good guess. You might just make it as a Grimm." He straightened, glancing around as if he was looking for something.

"What did Sean send us here for?"

Monroe looked at him. "Did he tell you about the coins?"

"Coins?" Remy asked. "No. What coins?"

Monroe rubbed his hands over his face. "About twenty years ago, now, a bunch of wesen came through Portland looking for the Coins of Zakynthos. Legend has it that the person who has the coins becomes so charismatic that he or she can bend others to their will. The trouble is they're highly addictive, and once you've had them, you'll do anything to get them back."

"And Sean thinks that whoever attacked me and my Dad was after the coins?" Remy asked. "Does he have them?"

"Nick took them away from a _steinadler_ ," Monroe said. "I have to assume that he's still got them."

He let the mention of a new wesen go for the moment, more interested in the coins and what value they had. "But wouldn't he be affected by them?"

Monroe shook his head. "Apparently, the Grimm are immune to the coins. Which is probably why Sean sent you with me."

"Why didn't he bring me here himself?" Remy asked.

"He doesn't know where Nick keeps the trailer," Monroe said. He started moving about the space, opening drawers and looking inside cabinets. "I get the feeling that's the way they want it."

Remy headed for the other side of the trailer, pulling back the covers on the bed to look underneath. "So, what am I looking for?"

"The coins are gold, about the size of a half-dollar," Monroe said as he continued to search. "Nick said something about a box being checked into evidence; he thought that's what the coins had been stored in. Lead lined, about the size of a cigar box."

The two men search every nook and cranny of the trailer. A half-hour later, when they were finished, it was a total disaster, but they'd come up empty.

"So, either he doesn't have them anymore, or he's got them hidden someplace else," Remy said when they'd finished. "Maybe he took them back to the house?"

"Not likely," Monroe said, shaking his head. "Renard had the coins for a while. According to Nick, he was affected by them, so I doubt he'd be willing to hide them where His Highness could find them."

"His Highness?" Remy asked, smirking.

Monroe shrugged. "He's the Prince. What else would I call him?"

"Sean?" Remy offered.

Monroe shuddered. "No thanks." 

"So, if he did hide them somewhere else, maybe he left a note?" Remy asked.

Monroe scanned the small trailer. "I hope not. You didn't find anything, did you?"

"No," Remy said, shaking his head. "You?"

"I didn't scan through all the books, but I don't think so. Those coins are dangerous. I doubt he'd leave any clues lying around where anyone could find them. If he's got them someplace else, it's a good bet he's the only one that knows where."

Remy nodded. It looked like they'd come up empty. He wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not. Leaving them hidden in the trailer would mean that he'd notice if they'd been taken, even at the risk of being attacked by anyone looking for them. Hiding them somewhere else might mean they wouldn't be missed for a long time, but at least he wouldn't be at risk of being attacked for getting in the way. It was a classic catch-22. 

"You about ready?" Monroe asked.

"Yeah," Remy said, glancing around one more time, hoping this wouldn't be the last time he visited the trailer. 

~o~

When they arrived back at the hospital, they found Sean sitting in the same chair he'd been in most of the night. He rose and joined them near the door.

"Did you find them?"

Monroe shook his head. "If he still has them, he didn't hide them in the trailer."

"We searched the whole thing," Remy said. "Monroe even pried up some loose floor plating."

"Good," Sean said, letting out a breath. He'd been afraid Nick had kept them in the trailer, which was entirely too easily accessible for his tastes. "At least he's being smart. You didn't find anything pointing to where he might have hidden them?"

Monroe and Remy shared a look. "Not that we could tell," Monroe said.

"Won't that put my dad at more risk, though?" Remy asked. "I mean, if the _steinadler_ thinks Dad can tell him where the coins are, won't he come after him?"

"I've already requested a guard—a wesen—be posted outside the room," Sean said. "And for the time being, I'd rather you stayed here with me, or with Monroe. Kolt might think that any one of us knows where the coins are and come after us."

"Safety in numbers," Remy said.

Sean smiled. The kid was smart, and he agreed with Nick that he'd make a good cop one day. "Something like that." He turned to Monroe. "The trailer?"

"We moved it," Monroe said. "It's—"

"Don't tell me," Sean said, holding up his hand. "I just need to know it's safe and concealed."

"It is," Monroe said.

"Good." Sean glanced back at Nick, but nothing had changed in the last five minutes.

"How's he doing?" Remy asked.

"About the same," Sean said. "They still don't know when he'll wake up."

"He's going to be pissed when he finds out we worked a wesen case without him," Monroe said.

All three men shared a chuckle at that.

"You don't have to stay, Monroe," Sean said.

Monroe shrugged. "I'm up already. I think I'll hang around for a while."

Sean nodded to him, then resumed his place in the chair on the far side of Nick's bed, noticing Remy sit back down with Monroe standing behind him, hands braced on his chair. They chatted quietly back and forth for a time, small comments and little stories about Nick that Monroe shared willingly. Remy asked more questions about the work Nick did as a Grimm, his natural curiosity coming out as they tried to pass the time.

It was good to see Nick's closest friend and his son bonding so well. He only wished it hadn't come under these circumstances.

~o~ 

Remy startled awake as someone shook his shoulder. He straightened, his neck protesting at the position he'd spent the last night in. At some point, Monroe had gone, explaining that he needed to get home to do his Pilates and get some work done in his workshop. Remy had fought the urge to laugh at the idea of The Big Bad Wolf doing Pilates, figuring the guy would probably go apoplectic if he did.

"Hey, Sean," he said, glancing up to find his Dad's brother looking fresh as a daisy, despite the fact that he'd spent the same near-sleepless night propped up in a chair. "How's Dad?"

Sean's lips thinned to a line. "No change, though they're saying that's a good thing for now."

"Right," Remy said. He felt about how Sean looked, like he wanted to call bullshit on the doctors but thought they might not like it too much. "So, what's up?"

"I need to head to the office," Sean said. Remy could hear the regret in his voice.

"Is it okay if I stay here?" he asked. Sean had said he didn't want Remy without either himself or Monroe for company, just in case, but he didn't think he could take being cooped up in a safe house somewhere. He needed to be here in case his Dad woke up.

Sean nodded. "I've already made arrangements." He waved his hand, and a man stepped into the doorway. He was tall, barrel-chested with close-cropped hair and an open expression, dressed in jeans and a suit coat. Remy liked him immediately, but also knew there was more to him than he could see at first glance. "Remy, this is Detective Barry Rabe. He's going to stay with you, and there'll be a uniformed officer just outside. If you need anything, just ask. And you can call me; you have my number, right?"

"Yes," Remy said, nodding. "And you'll call if anything turns up?"

He knew it wasn't fair, but he was using his most hopeful expression on the man, because he couldn't stand the idea of not knowing what was going on. He might only have been a Grimm for less than a day, but that didn't mean he couldn't help.

"I will, I promise," Sean said. With that, Sean strode away, shaking hands with the detective and sharing a murmured conversation on the way out.

Barry turned to him when the Chief was gone, holding out his hand. "Remy, it's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you, too, Detective," Remy said, shaking the man's hand.

"Call me Barry," he said, smiling. 

"Barry," Remy said, returning the smile. "You want to sit?"

Remy looked around, but there wasn't a third chair in the room. He knew it was silly, but he'd kind of started thinking of the chair on the far side of the bed as Sean's. It turned out not to matter. Barry took both their chairs and set them up at the foot of the bed where they'd have a view of both Nick and the door.

"So, do you know my father?" Remy asked once they were settled.

Barry smiled. "Your Dad got me out of a ton of trouble back when I was a teenager."

Remy's eyebrow rose. "What'd you do? High school prank or something?"

"No, nothing so easy," Barry said. His expression darkened, and Remy started feeling bad for asking.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have asked."

"No big deal, kid," Barry said, smiling softly. He tiled his head. "Can you…?" He wagged a finger at his face.

"Yeah, since last night," Remy said when he'd figured out what Barry wanted to know.

Suddenly, he wasn't sitting next to a police detective. He was sitting next to what he thought might be a bear. He didn't flinch this time, but it was a close thing. He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to seeing that.

"A bear?"

" _Jagerbar_ , to be specific," Barry said, nodding as his appearance slid back to his normal, human face. "When I was almost eighteen, my friends and I got into some trouble. My mother wanted us to participate in a ritual—the roh-hatz, a sort of coming-of-age thing—so we rounded up a couple of teenagers and were planning to chase them through the woods around our house. Your Dad got there in time to stop us. He went to bat for us with the court; told them that we were being manipulated by my mother, that we'd never been in trouble before, and that we deserved a second chance."

"What were you planning to do to those kids?" Remy asked. He thought this must have been the case Monroe had been talking about the night before. They hadn't talked about it, so he was curious to know how it had turned out.

"Nothing good," Barry said darkly. Remy shuddered. "Nick convinced the judge to give us probation and community service. When we completed it, our records would be wiped clean and we'd have the chance to get on with our lives. I've never forgotten that."

"Is that why you became a cop?"

Barry shrugged. "I'm a _jagerbar_ , so the law is sort-of in my blood, but I didn't want to become a lawyer like my dad. So, the next best thing was being a cop. Nick helped me get into the academy. I actually work out of his precinct. He's a good guy."

Remy smiled weakly. It seemed that his father was well-liked, even by the wesen he was supposed to hunt. It made him even more curious to know his father better. He only hoped he got the chance.

"So," he said, shaking off the melancholy thoughts. "What happened to your mother?"

"She wound up being committed," Barry said quietly. "She was convicted of conspiracy, but during the trial she just snapped. She couldn't deal, I guess. She thought she was upholding our traditions by helping us perform the roh-hatz, but some traditions just aren't worth it. She couldn't understand how my father and I felt about that. A few years later, she committed suicide."

"I'm sorry," Remy said. He felt bad now for asking, for dredging up memories that were probably better off left in the past.

"It's okay," Barry said. He laid a hand on Remy's shoulder and squeezed. "Your Dad was there for us during the whole thing." He paused, then smiled. "My Dad remarried a few years later. My step-mom's a great lady; Dad's happier than I've ever seen him. Things turned out okay."

Remy smiled. "I'm glad."

"So, how are you doing with all this?" Barry asked. "I mean, it must have been a shock."

"You mean the Grimm thing?" Barry nodded. Remy shrugged. "Okay, I guess. I mean, my Dad didn't tell me he was a Grimm, so when I started seeing things, I thought I was going crazy. Thankfully Sean was here when it happened; he explained what he could, otherwise I think I'd have gone home and holed up until I stopped seeing things."

Barry chuckled. "I can imagine. It's not easy getting a crash course in Wesen 101. Your Dad wasn't much better when he started. Did you know he actually came out into the woods looking for me and my friends? With nothing but a gun?"

"So, he chased down three hormonal, teenage _jagerbar_?" Remy asked with a cheeky grin. "He's braver than I thought."

"Funny, kid," Barry said, chuckling. "He actually convinced my Dad to go with him. I thought Dad was gonna flip when he realized that your father was a Grimm. But your Dad has this… way about him. He cares, and no one's heard of a Grimm who cares in a hundred years. We feel lucky. It's why your Dad has so much help; we want to give back."

Remy nodded. He had no idea what the impact of a Grimm that didn't act like a Grimm really was. But he could imagine.

"So, my Dad has more wesen friends helping him than just you and Monroe?"

"Sure," Barry said, smiling as he flicked a glance at Nick, still lying peacefully on the bed. "There's Rosalee, Monroe's wife. She's a _fuchsbau_ —a f—"

"Fox," Remy said. "Yeah, I speak German."

Barry raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment. "She runs the wesen version of a pharmacy. It's how Monroe and your Dad met her. And of course my father. He's a lawyer, like I said, but he's also pretty well connected and understands a helluva lot more about wesen politics than I do. And there's Adalind."

"Adalind?"

"Adalind Schade," Barry said. "Adalind Schade Griffin, I should say; Lieutenant Griffin's wife. She's a _hexenbiest_ —kind of a witch-like creature. Technically, she serves the Prince, but she's been known to help your father out on occasion. She likes to make a show of grumbling about it, but I know she respects the Captain. And you never know when you're going to need her particular brand of help."

"Wow."

"And then, of course, there are the _eisbibers_ ," Barry said, chuckling. "There's a lot of them around here."

"Beavers?" Remy guessed.

Barry nodded. "Yep. They were petrified of your Dad at first; kept thinking he was going to kill them. He tried to tell them, but they were so scared they didn't really get it. But when they did, look out. They'd bake stuff for your parents, fix things around the house. They went from scared to come within a dozen feet to nearly making pests of themselves."

"I bet Dad loved that," Remy said, grinning.

"Not so much," Barry said, shaking his head even as a grin formed. "When it first started—before the Captain had told your mom—it made her that much more suspicious. Monroe told me once he thought your dad was going to strangle Bud if he didn't stop. Still, they're good folks to have around. They're good handymen, loyal friends. All of us who've become close to Nick get to benefit from their… industriousness."

"It's like a whole other world I had no idea existed," Remy said, shaking his head. "I feel like I've missed out on something." He thought for a moment. "Is it like this other places? I mean, are there wesen in Seattle?"

"Seattle's part of the Prince's territory, but yeah, there are other places like this," Barry said. "Other protected territories, but I don't think any of them are as safe as this one is. And they don't have the Grimm we do."

There wasn't anything Remy could say to that, so he just nodded. "Thanks, by the way," he said after a while.

"For what?" Barry asked.

"For being here," Remy said. "For telling me about my Dad and his friends."

Barry smiled, squeezing his shoulder one more time. "I owe your father a lot more than I can ever repay. If helping you helps him, then I'm glad."

...continued...


	6. Chapter 6

~o~

The door slammed open, shattered bits of wood flying into the room as the door frame splintered. Sean and Hank rushed into the room, guns drawn as they searched for their suspect.

"Police!" Hank yelled as they entered.

It was a dive motel in a seedy part of town. Uniforms had been canvassing Portland since the men had identified Farley Kolt as their shooter. Since he wasn't using a credit card, they'd figured he was probably holed up in an out-of-the-way motel, paying cash and registered under a false name.

They'd scored on all three counts, not that it was much reassurance.

"Clear!" Sean called out from the bathroom.

"Clear!" Hank yelled, echoing his boss.

Sean holstered his gun and joined Hank. The room smelled musty, as if no one had stayed here in a while. The bed was rumpled, but empty. There was a duffel bag stashed in the closet, with jeans and shirts stuffed inside; a few toiletries sat on the bathroom counter. But the room's occupant was missing.

"The manager says he hasn't seen much of the guy since he checked in three days ago," Hank said as they searched the room, looking for clues to his whereabouts.

"He was probably following Nick, looking for an opportunity."

"Nick's a cop," Hank said as he tossed the duffel aside. "And a Grimm. I can't believe he didn't notice he was being followed."

Sean sighed. "Nick's been a little distracted with Remy. And Kolt's a _steinadler_ ; it would have been easy for him to watch Nick covertly."

"Adalind said they're like the mercenaries of the wesen world," Hank said.

"Yes," Sean said, nodding. "They're very skilled, very crafty. And those coins are a powerful motivator. If he wanted them bad enough, he'd have made sure no one spotted him."

Hank bent down, checking under the bed. Sean remembered Nick mentioning once that Kolt had kept a suitcase full of information on the coins under the bed. Sure enough, Hank emerged with a messenger bag clutched in his hand. He dumped it on the bed, flipping it open and rummaging through the contents.

"More information on the coins," Hank said as he shuffled through the papers.

Sean grabbed a stack and did the same, noting the wealth of information Kolt had gained in the last twenty years. "He was determined to track the coins and their effect on those who possessed them."

Hank's sharp intake of breath caught his attention. He looked up to find Hank holding a stack of photos. Wordlessly, the Chief of Detectives handed them over.

Sean rifled through them, his temper rising with each picture. They were all of Nick. His clothes were different in each photo; sometimes he wore a jacket, sometimes not. Sean and Monroe were in some of the photos. It was obvious that Kolt had been watching them for some time. His one consolation was that it didn't appear he'd taken any photos of Remy, a thought that Hank echoed.

"Looks like he didn’t know about Nick's son."

"There aren't any recent pictures of Nick," Sean said. It looked like the last photo had been taken over a year ago, so at least that was something.

"Maybe he was hoping Nick would lead him to where the coins were hidden," Hank said.

"Maybe," Sean echoed.

"Well, I don't see anything here that'll tell us where he is right now."

"Still, I'd like to have CSU come in and go over the place," Sean said. "See if he's left us any clues as to where he's been and where he might go next."

"I'll put a uniform out front, just in case he comes back here," Hank said. "I doubt he will, but it's worth a try."

Sean nodded. "Maybe we should start thinking about drawing him out."

"Set a trap?" Hank asked, eyebrow raised. "It's not a bad idea. That way we control how the takedown goes."

"I'll make a couple of phone calls," Sean said. "Meanwhile, call this in and get CSU out here. We need to move fast."

"Right," Hank said, pulling out his phone and dialing dispatch.

Sean surveyed the sparse room, his nose wrinkling. It was a step above an hourly-rate flop house, but only just. It looked like Kolt's standards had taken a serious hit. A man as desperate as that would be dangerous. They'd have to move carefully if they wanted to survive.

~o~

"And you really think this is going to work?" Remy asked.

"Kolt wants those coins," Hank said. "At this point, I'd be willing to bet he'll do just about anything to get them."

"He's got to know this is a trap," Remy said.

"We're counting on the fact that he wants those coins bad enough to take the risk," Sean said.

Remy sighed, glancing over at his father, still lying unconscious in ICU. Sean and Hank had come back from serving their warrant to fill him in on their plan. It was an awfully big risk to take, but he knew it might be their only chance. 

"Are you sure he's working alone?"

"He was the last time he came through looking for the coins," Hank said. "I doubt that's changed."

" _Steinadler_ tend to be loners. He won't trust anyone else with this. There'll be officers nearby, ready to move in at a moment's notice," Sean said, laying a hand on Remy's shoulder. "And I'll be in here, right next to Nick. Nothing's going to happen to him."

"It should be me," Remy said. Sean opened his mouth to protest, but Remy cut him off. "If Kolt is as suspicious as you say, he'll know who you are. More importantly, he'll know what you are. I doubt he'll want to confront the Lord Protector in order to get the location of the coins. Especially if he doesn't think you know where they are."

"He has a point," Hank said.

Sean glared at him darkly. "I am not leaving Remy in that room alone with Kolt."

"I won't be in there alone," Remy said.

"No, he won't. He'll have me."

All three men turned at the new voice. Standing a few feet away, a slight Asian man with a full head of spiky dark hair was grinning at them.

"Wu!" Hank said. The two men shook hands, hugging each other one-armed.

Wu turned to Sean, smiling and holding out his hand. "Sir. It's good to see you."

Sean shook his hand, a small smile on his lips. "I haven't been your boss in a few years, Wu. Cut the 'sir'."

"Right, Sean," Wu said, winking.

Sean turned to Remy, who'd watched the whole exchange with interest. His father had mentioned Wu a few times, but he'd had yet to meet the man. Looked like he was going to now. Not quite how he'd imagined it, but Wu was someone his father had spoken highly of, someone he'd trusted. That was enough for Remy.

"Remy, this is Lou Wu," Sean said. Turning to Wu, he finished the introduction. "Wu, this is Remy Burkhardt, Nick's son."

Remy held out his hand, shaking the other man's. Wu had a strong grip and a kind, if surprised, smile.

"Nick's son, huh?" he asked. "I didn't know he had a son."

"If it makes you feel any better, neither did he," Remy said. "We only met a few weeks ago."

"Ouch," Wu said. "I'm sorry."

Remy shrugged. "It's okay. My mom encouraged me to come down to meet him, so it's all good."

"You two will have plenty of time to get to know each other later," Sean said, breaking into their conversation. "Right now we need to get set up. You know what you'll be doing?"

"Yeah, Hank explained it to me," Wu said. "Basically, you want me to lay there in the bed and pretend to be Nick."

"That's right," Sean said. "We'll conceal a gun under the blankets, just in case. And I'll be in the room with you, armed of course."

Remy made to object, again, but Wu beat him to it.

"I don't know," Wu said, eyeing both men speculatively. "I think I have to go with the kid on this one. Kolt's not going to want to come within spitting distance of you. No offense." He turned to Remy. "Does Kolt know you're Nick's son?"

"Maybe," Remy said, shaking his head. "He caught up to us on the street; we were talking about him and my mom. I don't know how much he overheard, though."

"Remy's Grimm abilities are also emerging," Sean said quietly.

Remy's eyes bugged out a little at the idea that yet another of his father's friends was actually a wesen. This time, though, the guess was wrong.

"I'm not a wesen, kid, so relax," Wu said, as if he were reading Remy's mind. "But I do know a lot about them thanks to my friendship with Nick and Sean." 

"Does everyone in Portland know about the wesen?" Remy asked.

The three men chuckled, but it was Sean that answered. "No, not everyone. But those I worked with the closest figured it out. Or had it explained to them."

What he didn't say that Remy could figure out on his own was that those people needed to know in order for Sean to be able to do both his jobs well—Protector and Police Chief. It made sense, and if he already trusted these people, trusting them with this, too, made even more sense.

"Kolt's not going to know Remy's a potential Grimm," Wu said. "That works to our advantage. The kid's not defenseless, and he makes a better target for Kolt than you would."

Sean sighed. "You're right. I don't like it, but you're right."

"You want him to have a gun, just in case?" Hank asked.

Sean turned to Remy. "Do you know how to handle a gun?"

"I learned to shoot Mom's gun," he said. "She insisted. And, I've been practicing archery since I was about eight, so I'm a decent shot if it comes down to it."

Hank and Sean shared a look. Remy knew he'd surprised them; he seemed to be doing a lot of that lately. He honestly hadn't given his upbringing a second thought, but now that he was here in Portland, dealing with this situation, he knew the value of what his mother had done. He'd have to thank her the next time he talked to her.

"Okay," Sean said. He didn't look happy, but he didn't need to be happy. He just needed to trust that Remy could help. "Here's what we're going to do."

~o~ 

The room was dark, the only light coming from the life-signs monitor, still beeping quietly, a sure sign of life if there was one. Remy shifted in his chair, trying and failing to find a comfortable position.

"Relax, kid," Wu said from under the covers. "It'll all be over soon. Just take a few deep breaths."

Remy did as he was told, breathing in and out deeply a few times, feeling his heart rate slow even as the tension left his shoulders. "Thanks."

"No problem," Wu said. "I don't really want you accidentally shooting me."

Remy chuckled. Wu, he'd found, was even snarkier than Monroe, if that were possible. He'd retired from the force a few years before and started his own security consulting firm. He still worked closely with Portland PD since he had plenty of friends still on the force. But no longer being a cop meant that he could also help out with the wesen cases when needed. Remy felt like his family had grown from just him and his mom and grandparents to an entire community. It made dealing with this situation that much easier.

They'd decided that the easiest way to draw Kolt out was to spread the word that Nick had woken and was being moved to a private room. Wu was now ensconced under the blankets with a gun, with Remy nearby. It had been decided that he wouldn't have a gun on his person, just in case Kolt decided to search him. There would be a gun nearby, though, and within easy reach should he need it.

Sean, Hank and Barry, along with a few uniformed officers were waiting in the adjacent room. Once Kolt was spotted entering the hospital, the guard would be called away, leaving the room appearing unguarded.

"Heads up," Hank's voice called out over the earpieces each man was wearing. "Kolt's just been spotted entering the hospital."

"Copy that," Wu said. He turned to Remy. "You ready, kid?"

"Yeah," Remy said, nodding firmly.

Long minutes passed as they waited for Kolt to make his way to the fourth floor. Remy heard the elevator down the hall ding, the sound of the doors sliding open loud in the deserted hall. It was late, just past two am, so thankfully there weren't a lot of people around. What staff there was had been kept to a minimum and were interspersed with undercover cops. No risks were being taken. Kolt would go down, ending this nightmare for everyone.

"On his way to you," Hank whispered to them.

Remy stiffened slightly, then willed himself to relax. It needed to appear as though he were still sitting by his father's bedside, not waiting for their executioner.

Kolt slipped into the room, letting the door fall closed behind him. Remy rose as the other man pulled his gun.

"Don't move," Kolt said, leveling the gun at him. "I just need some information and then I'll leave. You don't interfere and both of you get to live. Okay?"

Remy nodded, raising his hands to appear non-threatening. "Okay."

"Now," Kolt said, turning his attention to the man on the bed. "Let's see if we can't wake you up, Nick."

He produced a syringe from his pocket, reaching for the IV line dangling from the bag on the stand.

"What's in the syringe?" Remy asked, hoping that Hank and Sean were still listening.

"Just a little something to wake up the Captain, here," Kolt said, barely glancing his way.

He inserted the syringe into the IV, pressing the plunger and forcing the liquid into the seemingly unconscious man on the bed.

They watched as the man Kolt thought was Nick rolled his head towards the steinadler. 

"That's it, Nick," Kolt said, leaning over the bed. "Time to wake up now. I need to know where you've hidden the coins, and you're going to tell me. For old time's sake, if nothing else."

"I don't think so, Kolt."

Remy's eyes darted to the doorway, where Sean stood with a gun pointed at Kolt. His eyes were flashing green fire, his entire form radiating power and rage. If Remy didn't know him better, he'd be afraid. He cut his eyes to Kolt, who seemed startled by Sean's appearance. His face shifted, morphing into something bird-like for just a moment before sliding back to his human appearance.

He backed up, pointing his gun at the bed. "I wouldn't try it, my dear Prince. You shoot me, I shoot your brother."

"You won't do it, Kolt," Sean said. "You shoot him again and you'll never find out where the coins are."

"Maybe, but you won't find them either," Kolt said. "Don't you want to know where they are? Can't you feel them calling to you? All that power, all that control right within your grasp, and you haven't gone after them. You're a fool."

"Everything those coins touch turns to ashes, Kolt," Sean said, stepping aside to reveal Hank behind him, gun also drawn. "You more than anyone know that. You lost Marie to the coins. Your perfect life, gone because you reached too far."

Kolt flinched. Remy had no idea what Sean was talking about, but it looked like it was hitting close to home. He sidled to the side, just a bit, putting himself in reach of the gun concealed next to the bed. He wanted to be ready because he sensed that things were about to get ugly.

"But with the coins I can put it all back together again," Kolt said.

"You'll never get Marie back," Sean said harshly. "She's dead, and you've spent the last thirty years chasing something that won't bring her back."

"Marie left me long before the coins," Kolt said, and there was bitterness in his tone. "They're all I have left, and I'm not leaving Portland without them."

"You're not leaving Portland, Kolt," Sean said. He cocked his gun, leveling it at the steinadler as if he were issuing a challenge.

Kolt swung his gun to Sean at the same moment that Wu sat up, gun in hand and pointing it at Kolt. Remy dove for the gun concealed at the bedside, pointing it at Kolt with a steady hand.

Sean smiled. "You see, Kolt? You're finished. Be glad I respect my brother as much as I do. For his sake I won't kill you, but you'll be going to prison for the rest of your life for trying to kill him. I'm going to make sure of it."

"Like hell," Kolt snarled. 

He turned the gun on Wu, intending to shoot him. Three shots rang out in the tiny room, each one finding their mark. Kolt crumpled to the floor, moaning in pain. Sean entered the room, Hank and Barry on his heels. He stood over the _steinadler_ as he holstered his gun. None of the shots was fatal, each one of them aiming for a different limb so that Kolt had gunshot wounds in his left arm and right shoulder, as well as his right leg.

Remy approached the two men, his gun at his side. "He was willing to die to get these coins?"

"Apparently so," Sean said. He reached out and took the gun from Remy. "Thank you for not firing. I may be the boss, but I don't want to have to explain to your father why I let you shoot our suspect."

"You guys had it handled," Remy said. "Nice shot, by the way."

The two men shared a secret smile before being jostled out of the way by the medical personnel, who'd been waiting down the hall just in case. Sean guided Remy out of the room where Wu met them a few moments later.

"Well, that was easier than I expected it to be," he said.

"You shot him," Remy pointed out. "How is that easier?"

"He could have shot us," Wu said. "I'd rather not experience that again, thanks."

"At least you'd already be in a hospital," Remy said. 

Wu laughed. "You are definitely your father's son."

"Speaking of which," Sean said. "Why don’t you head back up to your father's room and wait for us there. There's no need for you to remain here."

"You sure?" Remy asked.

"Yeah," Hank said, joining their group. "Barry's volunteered to walk you back upstairs."

Remy opened his mouth to object. They'd caught Kolt; he didn't need a bodyguard anymore.

"Humor me, Remy," Sean said, holding up a hand to halt his objections. "We still don't know for sure that Kolt was working alone. Until I'm satisfied that no one else is going to come after your father, I want you both protected."

"Yeah, okay," Remy said, sighing.

Sean waved Barry over, and the two men headed for the elevators. 

...continued...


	7. Chapter 7

~o~

They were still in ICU. Nick was still unconscious, but his vital signs were steadily improving.

It had been two days since they'd arrested Farley Kolt, and Sean and Remy had hardly moved from Nick's room. There'd been a steady stream of visitors, everyone checking to make sure that their favorite police Captain was still on the mend.

Barry Rabe had been by more than once. Once the threat to Nick had passed, he'd gone back to the precinct, but kept coming by to check in with them and make sure they didn't need anything. Monroe and Rosalee had been a near constant presence, both of them offering support and comfort in equal measure.

Even Bud, the _eisbiber_ repairman, screwed up the courage to come by the hospital and check on Nick. He spent a few moments stammering out a greeting, his eyes darting from Remy to Sean to Nick. He looked like he'd rather be anywhere but in that room, and Remy had to give him credit for not running scared at the sight of his Lord Protector and the newest Grimm on the block. He'd offered meals after Nick got home, as well as assorted repairs and other assistance. Sean indulged him as much as he could, but even Remy could see that he'd rather the _eisbiber_ didn't make a fuss.

Remy had liked the guy immediately and saw what his father did: they were brave, the _eisbibers_ , in their own way, and generous to a fault. 

Remy looked over at Sean, still sitting on the other side of the room, pressed up as close to Nick's bed as he could. He could see the stress lines appearing at the corners of his eyes. He'd known that Sean and his father had a strong connection, but watching him watch his father brought it all home. They were as close as two brothers could be, and when Nick hurt, Sean hurt.

The doctors had said that Nick was improving, and while they hadn't seen that yet, there was at least hope. And with Kolt behind bars—or at least he would be once his wounds had been treated—the danger had passed. And he knew he had Sean to thank for that.

"Thanks, Sean."

Sean turned his head, a slight frown creasing his brow. "For what?"

Remy shrugged. He wasn't very good at this sort of thing. "For being here for me and my Dad. For arresting Kolt. Just… thanks."

"I'd like to say it was my pleasure…" Sean said, ghosting a smile. He paused, his expression sobering. "I'll always be here for you, Remy. Both of you. That will never change."

Remy nodded his gratitude, not able to do much more. Sean went back to watching Nick, affording Remy the chance to study him more.

He was intensely curious to know this man who was now his uncle, but he was afraid to ask. Afraid to step into territory he had no business treading on. Still, he was going to be part of Remy's life from now on. But, maybe he could ease into it.

"May I ask you something, Sean?"

Sean turned back to Remy, his expression open. "Sure. Anything you want to know."

Remy squirmed a bit in his chair. "You and my dad didn't grow up together, did you?"

"Ah, that," Sean said.

Remy could see the set of his shoulders change, tension returning to his frame all at once. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. I mean, I asked my dad once, but he never really said—"

Sean held up a hand to halt the rush of words. "It's okay, Remy. To answer your question, no, we didn't grow up together. Neither of us were our father's legitimate heir."

"Your father had an affair?"

"He had several, in point of fact," Sean said. "Your grandmother was a Grimm. My mother was my father's most trusted servant."

"My grandmother was a Grimm?" Remy asked, casting a quick glance at his father, lying in a hospital bed. He'd never really given any thought to past generations, beyond what Sean had told him the day he'd found out about being a Grimm himself.

"Yes, she was," Sean said quietly. "She was believed to have been murdered years ago by four men pursuing the coins."

"The coins?" Remy asked. "Wait, 'believed to have been killed'? She wasn't really dead?"

Sean sighed. "No. She faked her own death in order to protect Nick as well as help her find the men that were after the coins. She returned to Portland not long after your mother left. Nick was angry; he'd lived for twenty years believing she was dead, only to have her turn up in his living room, alive and well. She didn't stay long—just long enough to help him eliminate the last _schakal_ suspected in her death, and to explain what she'd done—and then she disappeared again. We've seen her a few times since then, but if she's still alive…"

"Wow," Remy said, shaking his head. His family history was way more complicated than he'd expected. "So, what about your mother? You said she was a trusted servant. Was she a _hexenbiest_?"

Sean's eyes narrowed slightly. "How did you know about that?"

"Barry explained a few things to me," Remy said, lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug.

"Yes, she was a _hexenbiest_ ," Sean said. Remy thought he might have seen a faint flicker of pride in Sean's eyes, but it was there and gone in an instant. " _Hexenbiester_ have a long history of serving the Royal Houses. My mother's line was no different. My father took care of us, made sure I was trained in the ways of the Royal Houses, but we weren't particularly close."

"And my grandmother?"

"Kelly Kessler," Sean said. "The history between the Royal Houses and the Grimm is a complicated one. Once upon a time, the Grimm served the Royal Houses. That's how Kelly came into the service of House Renard. She caught my father's eye almost immediately. When she became pregnant, she left our House in order to protect her son. She married a man named Reed Burkhardt, who raised Nick as his own, and Kelly never told Nick about his real father. It wasn't until years later that the truth came out."

"Yeah, Dad told me about the fight you had," Remy said. They sat in silence for a while as he digested this new knowledge. "So, does that mean my father is part royal? Can he do that thing you do?"

"No," Sean said, shaking his head even as he smiled. It was like he'd known the question was coming. "Grimm genes are dominant over any others. So, your father is 100% Grimm, as are you."

"And are you part _hexenbiest_?"

Sean huffed out a quiet laugh. "No. I am a true Royal of the House Renard, maternal heritage notwithstanding. And even if I weren't, there are no male _hexenbiester_."

"Got it," Remy said, blushing despite his effort not to. He paused. "Thanks."

"Whatever you need, Remy," Sean said seriously. "Never forget that."

Just then, the machines hooked up to Nick began beeping like crazy. Both men stood up and moved closer to the bed, leaning over as they looked for any sign that he might be waking up.

Nick's eyes began to flutter, soft moans punctuating the constant beep of the heart monitor.

"Come on, Nick," Sean said, taking his hand and squeezing lightly. "Time to open your eyes."

His eyes opened at those words, just silver slivers in the dim light. Sean, Remy was amused to note, was beaming.

"Hey," Nick rasped out. "W'hpnd?"

"You were shot," Sean said, squeezing his hand again. "Do you remember?"

"Remy?" Nick asked even as he struggled against the weakness in his body.

"Shhh," Sean said. He rested his other hand on Nick's shoulder, pushing him back onto the bed. "Remy's here. He's fine."

Nick's gaze tracked over to where Remy stood beside the bed. He reached out and grasped his father's arm. "I'm fine, Dad. Not even a scratch."

Nick subsided back into the mattress, his eyes drifting closed. They popped open just a moment later. "Kolt!"

"Has been arrested," Sean said. "We got him. Just rest now."

Nick's eyes drifted closed, all the excitement of the last few minutes draining him of whatever strength he'd accumulated. Sean straightened up, his eyes continuing to watch the man on the bed.

"He's going to be fine, Sean," Remy said. It was the height of irony that he was now comforting Sean when it had been Sean comforting him for the better part of the last week.

"Yeah," Sean said, never taking his eyes off of his brother. "Yeah."

Just then, one of the nurses, followed by a doctor, came into the room, doubtless summoned by the monitor going crazy just a moment before.

"He was awake for a minute or so," Remy blurted out as the nurse checked the lines and leads.

Nick's doctor smiled at him. "I’m glad to hear it. I figured he'd be coming out of it soon. He'll probably be in and out for the next day or so. Why don't you two go home and get some rest. If he's stable enough, I'll move him to a private room. You can visit him there when you get back."

Remy made to object. Now that his father had woken, he wanted to make sure to be there the next time it happened. Nick was bound to have more questions, but with no one there to answer them he was sure his father would become upset.

As if he was reading Remy's mind, the doctor laid a hand on Remy's shoulder. "You won't do him any good if you're dead on your feet. He probably won't remember waking up, and may not remember anything for the next twelve hours or so even if he does wake up again. Go home and get some rest and something to eat."

"Thank you, doctor," Sean said, cutting off Remy's next objection. "We'll do that. Please be sure to call me if anything happens."

"You'll be my first call, Mr. Renard," the doctor assured him.

"Come on, Remy," Sean said, moving to stand beside him. "Let's let the doctor do what he needs to. We'll see Nick again later."

Remy let Sean steer him to the door and then through, but not without one last look at his father. His color was better; he'd looked as pale as the sheets on the bed for the last few days, but some color had leached back into his skin just in the last few hours. Now, he just looked like he was resting peacefully.

He saw the nurse looking over at him, a soft smile on her face. Then, her face shifted, and he was looking at another _feldhase_. But just as soon as her face shifted, her human appearance resumed.

Taking a last look at his father, he followed Sean out to his car. But instead of unlocking the car, Sean just pulled him into a hug, the two men clinging to each other in the hospital parking garage for long moments. Finally, Sean pulled back, hooking a hand behind Remy's neck.

"We'll swing by your dorm so you can grab a few things, then I'll take you back to my place," he said. "It'll be better if we're both together, just in case the hospital calls."

Remy nodded, overcome with emotion at the thoughtful gesture. "Thanks," he whispered.

Sean merely smiled. He pulled his keys out of his pocket and unlocked the doors, stepping back so Remy could get into the car. He sat quietly, waiting for Sean to walk around to the driver's side and get in. 

His father had woken up, had seemed aware if not terribly alert. He could feel the tension of the last few days leaching out of him at that knowledge. Remembering the nurse, it looked like he hadn't lost the ability to see wesen now that his father was awake. He'd recognized that it was possible this would never go away, but now he knew for sure. He couldn't wait for his father to be lucid again so he could talk to him about it all.

Settling back into the seat as Sean maneuvered out of the parking garage, he let his mind wander, the list of questions he'd like to ask growing as each mile passed.

~o~ 

"Will you quit fussing?"

Sean straightened up, tugging once more at the covers over Nick's lap. "Probably not, but you can keep right on asking."

Nick rolled his eyes. He'd been out of the hospital for nearly a week, and it seemed that Sean and Remy were determined to mother-hen him to death. He'd survived the gunshot wound, and the apparent attempt at getting the location of the coins. From what Sean had told him, he was glad he hadn't been there.

He was still a bit—probably more than a bit—weak, so he wouldn't even be going back to work for a while yet, a fact that was driving him crazy. It also worried him just a little that there was really no Grimm presence in Portland for the time being. He was too laid up to do much of anything, and while Remy was still a Grimm, he was untrained. If the Reapers decided to come at him now, he wouldn't be able to put up much of a fight.

"Go on," Nick said, pulling himself back to the present. "You've got a meeting this morning. The Chief of Police can't be late."

"One of the benefits of being the Police Chief is that they can't start the meeting without me," Sean said. He sat down on the edge of the coffee table, leaning forward to brace his arms on his knees as he pinned Nick to the sofa with his gaze. "We almost lost you. I'm probably going to be a bit overprotective for a while. You'll just have to get used to it."

"I know," Nick said, smiling gratefully.

Sean returned the smile, his eyes sparkling with the knowledge that Nick was going to be alright. "Remy should be here in a few minutes. I'll leave as soon as he gets here."

As if he'd been summoned, the front door opened and closed. Remy appeared in the room, dropping his backpack as he crossed over to the couch.

"Hey guys," he said, smiling.

Nick grinned. "Tell him he can go to his meeting now."

"Sean, you can go to your meeting now."

"See?" Nick said, turning back to his brother. "You can go now. My other babysitter is here."

"You're a funny man, Captain Burkhardt," Sean said. He readjusted his jacket and tie as he stood up. "Let me know if you need anything."

Now it was Remy rolling his eyes. "We'll be fine, Sean. Now go."

Sean held up his hands. "Okay, I'm leaving. Behave, you two."

Nick and Remy exchanged a glance, both men grinning. "No promises, Sean," Nick said.

Sean scowled for a moment, clearly debating whether or not he could reschedule his meeting.

"I promise I won't try taking Remy out to the trailer," Nick said, holding up a hand as if he were taking a solemn oath.

Sean muttered something that Nick chose not to hear before bidding them both goodbye and heading off to work. 

"I swear I'm going to go crazy," Nick said as Remy grabbed his bag and settled in the side chair.

"We almost lost you, Dad," Remy said as he rummaged around inside. "We're going to be a little clingy for a while."

Nick's chest swelled a little at the sound of that. He'd noticed that, ever since he'd woken up, Remy had been calling him 'Dad'. He hadn't realized just how much he'd wanted a child to call him that until Remy came into his life. He'd had his reservations about having children, mostly because he thought it was too large a responsibility to teach someone else to be a Grimm. And it was a life he wasn't sure he'd wish on his child. He'd had no choice, after all, and neither would his son.

But Remy seemed to be taking to the Grimm thing with gusto. They'd spent their time since the shooting talking about wesen, about some of Nick's experiences and making plans for when Nick was better. There were some serious weapons Remy wanted to learn to use, and a trailer-full of books to read.

Recovery was going to be long and hard for him, but it would have been worse had he been a normal human. Already he was astonishing his doctor with the speed of his recovery. He'd be out training Remy sooner than anyone expected, and he couldn't wait.

As if on cue, Remy pulled out a notebook and pen, turning his attention back to his father. "So, what do you want to talk about today?" Remy asked.

"I thought maybe you could tell me about what you learned growing up," Nick said. 

He'd been wondering about Remy's upbringing ever since Sean told him about the little things Remy had mentioned while he'd been in the coma. He couldn’t believe that Juliette had basically been training Remy all his life to be a Grimm. He'd thought she'd left because she couldn't handle it, and maybe that was true, but that also wouldn't change the fact that Remy would grow up to be a Grimm. And she'd seen what being an untrained Grimm had gotten Nick—he'd told her the stories so she'd understand what she was facing by staying with him. Maybe she'd decided that she didn't want her son going through that.

Remy smiled. "You mean about learning German and Archery and stuff?"

"Yeah," Nick said. "I can't believe your mother put you through all that. I mean, she…"

"She what?" Remy asked when he didn't go on. "She left because she couldn't handle you being a Grimm?"

Nick gusted out a sigh. "Yeah, that about sums it up." He paused, eyeing his son critically. If there was any hostility or blame there, he couldn't see it. "What I told you the day I was shot was true; all of it. Your mom left because she couldn't handle what I do. The difference is, she could handle the police work, but it was being a Grimm that scared her. The wesen-related cases started touching her—putting her in danger—and she couldn't handle that. I don't blame her one bit for leaving. This isn't an easy life, and it's one I didn't choose. But I'm not sorry I became a Grimm; I'm only sorry it drove your mom away."

"I know, Dad," Remy said, smiling softly. "And I don't blame you, either. When I first started seeing the wesen, at the hospital, I thought I was going crazy. Sean was really good about it, but it still scared me. I mean, I had no control over what I was seeing, much less when. But this gift, this thing we can do, it's important. I get that, and I think mom did, too. So, she made sure I was ready."

"What, exactly, did that involve?"

"I took German in high school," Remy said. "I'm actually still taking it at Portland U. I've also taken archery lessons since I was about eight years old. I ran track in high school. Mom used to read me the Grimm Fairy Tales—after I'd seen the Disney version, of course. They were darker, which was cool. Disney movies were way too fluffy for me."

Nick laughed, then gasped as his stitches pulled. Remy made to get up, but his father waved him off. That was going to happen from time to time, and Nick figured he'd just have to get used to it. He was healing fast enough that he thought it wouldn't be a problem in a few more days, anyway.

"So, how are your instincts?" he asked, curious as to just how much his son inherited.

"Pretty good, I think," Remy said. "I've always been able to tell a lot about a person just by looking at them. My friends think it's weird."

"More likely it's a result of the Grimm genes," Nick said. At Remy's curious gaze, he explained. "I can do it, too. Always freaked Hank out."

"I bet," Remy agreed. 

There was a lull in the conversation as Nick's strength flagged a little. He hated being this weak, knowing there were creatures out there taking advantage of the fact that the local Grimm wasn't up to taking anyone on. But, he'd be back on his feet in no time, he was sure of it.

Nick watched as Remy scribbled in his notebook for a few moments. It was remarkable how much like him his son was. He had no memories of his biological father, but he didn't think they were that much alike, anyway. His mother was a different story. He got his looks from her—he had the same dark hair and fair skin. And he was pretty sure that his instincts—the Grimm and the non-Grimm ones—came from her as well. He suspected that much of who he was came as part of the Grimm gift. It made him wonder how much he was like the other Grimm in the world. He hadn't met one yet, and he'd been a Grimm for twenty years. He suspected he'd never find out, unless one happened to enter his territory, but one never knew.

"What are you scribbling?" Nick asked.

"Just drawing," Remy said. He turned the notebook, and Nick could see the beginnings of a _feldhase_. It looked to be a female, probably one of the nurses at the hospital.

"Not bad," Nick said. "Have you always been able to draw?"

"Pretty much," Remy said. "I took a few art classes when I was younger, but mostly I just draw what I see."

"I have a feeling that's also Grimm-related," Nick said. "I've always been able to draw, too. My mom, and later my aunt, encouraged me to practice. I never gave it much thought until I became a Grimm, but it'll come in handy when you're making notes on wesen. That way you can include a sketch, for future reference."

"I can't wait to get started," Remy said, grinning. 

Nick saw a familiar gleam in his son's eye, causing pride to swell in his chest. Remy had been by every day, talking about wesen and soaking up knowledge like a sponge. It appeared today would be no different.

"So," Nick said, feeling as settled as he was ever going to be about his son and what lay ahead for them. "Which wesen are we going to talk about today?"

~Finis


End file.
